It was Sunday afternoon; my bottom was still tender from the spanking Becky had given me the previous evening. There was definitely a different air in the house. Becky's attitude toward me was peremptory, as she did not ask me to do the dishes or take out the trash as she usually would, instead she ordered me to do so.

Later I heard her talking on the phone. "Hello, Glenda. I thought I would call you and arrange for us to come over this evening so that Rick can apologize to you. Oh, that is fine, in fact it is perfect. Yes, from the way he is carrying himself, and sitting down, I can tell that his little bottom is still very sore. Oh yes. He should definitely get another spanking from you. I will give him a few days to recover from my session and we'll arrange a time when you will be able to give him all you wish."

They talked for another half hour or so, but my fate had been sealed, and I didn't pay much attention to the balance of the conversation.

The week passed too quickly as far as I was concerned. I wondered what it would be like to be put across the lap of my wife's best friend. The embarrassment that would accompany it was too much to imagine. I hated the thought of it, and at the same time I there was a fascination I could never hope to explain. Most of all, I realized I deserved what ever I was going to get for disrespecting my wife.

Meanwhile, Becky's attitude toward me continued to leave little doubt that she had taken charge of this house, and that I had best obey her. As we finished dinner on Saturday, Becky told me to wash the dishes, and get ready to go over to Glenda's. I don't know if she knew I had overheard the phone conversation, but I do know I was very nervous.

We walked out to the car and Becky surprised me by walking to the driver's side. She waited with a frown on her face until it dawned on me that I had better open her door for her. Without a word, I went to the passenger's side. Becky smiled, "You learn very quickly, dear. From now on I shall do the driving and you will sit right where you are. I'm glad to see you are adjusting to seeing me as the boss, and as your disciplinarian. You do see it that way, don't you?" Her clear blue eyes showed steely resolve. My mouth was dry as I replied "Yeah, Becky, you are the boss in our home." She chuckled, "And?" she asked. For an instant I did not know what she wanted, then I said, "And that is the way it should be." She raised an eyebrow, and I added, "And that is the way I want it." She put the car in gear as she said, "That's a good boy. When we get to Glenda's house she is going to punish you and I want you to cooperate well. Remember, whatever she decides to do, she has my blessing."

We arrived at the Borton's house and Becky rang the bell. Glenda answered the door. I looked at her and again remembered why allowed my eyes to linger too long the last time. It was truly beautiful. Then it truly hit me. I AM PROBABLY GOING TO BE SPANKED BY THIS WOMAN.

"Come in, come in." Glenda said, "I have put Jerry to bed early, as what we have to do is none of his business. Sit down, Rick," she ordered me, as she took a chair directly across from the one she indicated for me. Becky, grinning broadly, sat to one side. Glenda wasted no time. "You like my legs, Ricky, hmmm? Well, little boy, you are going to be very close to them before too long. How dare you make a comment to me like the one you made last week? How dare you!" The look on her face made it clear that there was really nothing I could say, except a weak, "I'm sorry".

Her smile was disdainful, "Oh, I'm know that Becky made you very sorry, and take my word for it, you are going to be a lot sorrier." She glanced toward an end table, which I had not noticed before. On it sat a large paddle with holes in it, and a rattan cane. She pulled her skirt up revealing those gorgeous legs as she told me, "Get up and bring me that paddle." I glanced from Glenda to Becky and back to Glenda. Neither of them showed any particular emotion, just satisfied determination.

I presented the paddle to Glenda, and waited. I did not wait long, Glenda unbuckled and lowered my trousers in almost a single motion, and without stopping, she stripped down my underpants. "Now, Ricky, I am going to give you the spanking of your life. I WILL teach you to respect women. We are not in the world for men's amusement. We are not here to serve you. In fact, we will tell you what to do and punish you when you do not obey, and the sooner you realize it the better. Now get across my lap."

I knew better than hesitate. "Now you are veerry close to my pretty legs, aren't you? Do you like it?" I knew she wanted an answer, so I said, "Yes Maam, I like it. I am where I belong." Her tone was mellow, "Becky told me you were adjusting to being subject to female discipline quite well."

With that she landed the first swat. This was no warm-up. She delivered a continuous barrage of spanks, harder than any Becky had given me a week earlier. I was thrashing around on her lap, yelping and begging for mercy before she had reached a dozen. She stopped for a moment to tell me, "Ricky, I know this is hurting, and that's good, it is supposed to. Now quit gyrating and simply take what I am going to give you, because you WILL take what I am going to give you even if Becky has to help hold you in place. Do you understand?" She did not wait for an answer, the spanking resumed and I did my best to lie still, but I could not.

I was crying and begging for mercy as Glenda delivered swat after swat after swat in rapid succession, each one seemingly harder than the previous one. "Becky" I heard her say, "hold his legs still. He is making me very angry by his childish squirming. He cannot even take a spanking like a man." I felt Becky's firm hands behind my knees, as Glenda resumed my spanking. It was not long after that that I felt Becky relax her grip, as she sensed my complete surrender. I lay across Glenda's lap sobbing as she completed the spanking she felt I needed.

"Get up, Rick, and bend over the back of that chair and grab the front legs. I would advise you not to change that position until you are told." With tears streaming down my face, I did as she instructed, knowing that Glenda intended to finish off with the cane.

"What I am going to do now is really going to be painful, Rick, but you simply have to learn manners" With that she delivered four stinging swings of the cane across my right buttock, and quickly changed sides and delivered four more to the left. I shrieked with pain. My bottom, already fiery hot from Glenda's paddle felt like it was stung by bees, beyond anything I had imagined on the way over. But now it apparently was over. Glenda told me to stand in the corner while she and and Becky sat down nearby, sounding very relaxed and enjoying their conversation. I could not hear what they were saying, but I heard them chuckle and giggle, and laugh, and had no doubt that Glenda was giving Becky some sisterly advice on disciplining men.

Finally, I heard Becky say, "All right, pull up your undies and pants. Time to go home and put you to bed." Sitting was very painful and the ride home was excruciating. Becky took me right up stairs, undressed me and put me into bed. As she left the room, she said, "Enjoy looking at pretty legs, dear, but I am sure you will remember from now on that their best purpose is to provide a place for a naughty boy to lie while a woman spanks him."

Lucille and I had been married for about twenty years, and had two boys, ages 17 and 15. My wife is a school teacher and a stern disciplinarian. While she cannot paddle in school, she has never hesitated to spank the boys, and, as a result, we have two very well behaved young men. In fact, the oldest received his latest spanking (over his strenuous objections that he is "too old") the day after his seventeenth birthday for staying out too late the previous night.

Lucille has always insisted on administering the boys' discipline, saying that it will be beneficial to their future marriages if the are accustomed to accepting correction from a woman. She had, however, never indicated any desire to spank me even though we frequently argued and bickered, perhaps because she usually won. I, on the other hand, had frequently wondered what it would be like to be put across her lap. One day I stumbled across the DWC website. After perusing it, I waited for an opportunity to suggest that Lucille visit it. When I did, she got a look on her face that I could not decipher, and said that she would check it.

A few days later she called me into her study, told me that she had read every word on the site, then, with an enigmatic smile, asked me if this is what I wanted. I guess I blushed a little and said, "I think so." Her smile changed to a look of disapproval. "I think so is not good enough. I have no intention of catering to some sexual fantasy of yours. If and when I spank you it will be because you have submitted totally to me, and that, henceforth, I wear the pants in this family. I will give the orders; you will obey them. I will give you a daily and weekly list of chores; you will do them or be punished. I will handle ALL of our finances; you will give me your paycheck, and I will give you what I think is a sufficient allowance. I will allow NO profanity in my house. You will make no arrangements to be with your buddies without first getting my permission, and you are to let them know that you HAVE to get my permission. Which brings me to what will probably be the most difficult for you. We will make it obvious to all our friends through our conversations and actions in their presence that I am the head of this house. I won't tell them that I spank you unless you force me to, but we will leave no doubts as to whose in charge. I am certain that I will add other items from time to time as is pleases me, but this should give you a good idea of what I desire. I have put up with the bickering for the boys' sakes, but in a couple of years I was going to give you a choice of this or divorce. Do I make myself clear? If you are willing to submit to me, you are to ask me for your FIRST spanking, and, believe me, you will get it! You have a week to accept my terms. Otherwise, we go on for only two more years as we have, and then you will get the choice I mentioned. You will be happier if you submit now. You may leave." I started to object, but her eyes were like steel. "I said 'Leave' NOW" All I could manage was to mumble, "Yes ma'am"

I cannot describe the following week - sweating, worrying, fantasizing, and finally surrendering. That evening after dinner and the boys had left for a ballgame, I said the fateful words: "Lucille, I want my first spanking." She gave me a knowing look and said, "I was expecting this. That is why I gave the boys money for the game. Wash the dishes and come to my study." I washed and dried the dishes. Then knocked on her study door. "Come in, dear" When I entered, she was sitting in a straight back chair, her skirt folded neatly back, and the paddle that I had made for her to use with the boys was lying in her lap. "Come here, dear" she indicated a spot to her right. I went over and started to unbuckle my belt, only to have Lucille slap my hands. "I'll take care of that." She said. She lowered my pants and my underpants. I was embarrassed by my obvious arousal. This time her smile was almost wicked. "That little thing will not be as perky in a few minutes. Now lay over my left knee." I hesitated, and she almost cooed, "I can understand your feelings, dear. You stand there now as my husband, but you will get up after this spanking, my obedient little boy. Believe me, you will be much happier than you think right now. Enough talk, get over my knee NOW"

I lowered myself into position and felt her firm left hand on my back. At the same time I felt the pressure of her right leg across the back of my legs. She gave me about a dozen hard swats, then stopped. Almost mockingly she asked, "Is this what you expected? I hope so because I am going to thoroughly enjoy this." With that she resumed the spanking. I don't know how many swats I took before beginning to squirm and asking her to stop. "Stop? I will decide when to stop, and, believe me that is a long way off. Before I stop you will have quit squirming, started crying and delivered yourself totally to my authority. I am a little sorry for you, but that is what you asked for, and that is exactly what I am going to give you."

She pressed a little more firmly with her left hand and increased the pressure of her right leg, and continued with the spanking. The swats rained down in a terrible rhythm; what started as a glow in my buttocks became a flame. The paddle continued its rhythm and the flame became an all-consuming fire. I was beyond begging; my crying had deteriorated into incoherent blubbering. I lay across her lap, the pressure to keep me there was no longer needed. I simply lay there, completely submitted to taking whatever she wished to deliver. She did finally stop and pushed me off her lap.

Standing over me, she said, "Get up, I have something for you to do before you stand in the little boy's corner. Sit down and rewrite this in your handwriting." She handed me a typed letter in which I confessed my total lack of self-control and asked her to assume the roll of my mother, spanking me whenever she felt I needed it. I was in no condition to question her. I did ask if I could write it, standing, and was told that she wanted good penmanship and I was to SIT.

After I completed it she read it over and asked me how I would like copies of it sent to all of our friends. The horror must have shown in my face, because she said, "Don't worry. That will not happen unless, you defy me, even once, when I tell you to get across my lap, or if you are ever foolish enough to try to leave me. Clear? I'm sure it is. Now get in your corner.

I stood in the corner for the next half hour while Lucille laughed and joked on the phone with one of her girlfriends. When she hung up, she ordered me to bed for the evening, saying that she was going to a movie. I heard her leave the house, but could not bring myself to get out of bed. I simply wanted to do as I had been told. When she came home well after midnight, she asked me if I had stayed in bed, and when I assured her that I had, she smiled warmly and said, "You are learning to be a good little boy and that is what I expect of you." She did not delay the "Most difficult thing for me" The next weekend we had three other couples over for Bridge. Before they arrived, Lucille gave me what she termed "A nice little spanking" to remind me of how I was to behave. From the beginning of the evening, Lucille ordered me to "get this" or "do that" and I quickly complied. One of the ladies remarked on my willingness to serve, and Lucille simply told her that "Ralph and I have an understanding and he knows that I am the boss. Isn't that right, Ralph?" I knew better than fudge, and said, "We decided that there can only be one boss in the house and felt that it is best if that person is the woman."

There were some grimaces from the men, and a few chuckles and "How nice!" from the women. A couple of them said they would have to "talk" with their husbands. At the end of the evening, after the guests had left, Lucille told me that I had been a good little boy, and that it would be easier from now on, now that our relationship was known. It has been. My life has been easier. There is no arguing. Very simply, Lucille decides what I am to do, and I do it. If I displease her, I am punished. I still get to bowl and play golf with my buddies, but I must get her permission, and sometimes, quite capriciously, she says, "No!" Perhaps she enjoys hearing me tell Rick or Henry that my wife won't let me this week. She runs our home and I am glad she does.

Ralph

REWARD FOR WEB SURFING

Dear Aunt Kay,

After checking the history on our computer I found your site. I was very intrigued. It seems my husband has been visiting yours and other sites that are similar. My husband in the past has spoken about spanking and we have played around with it in the past but nothing like your site encourages. That's All changed now.

Everything came to a head at once. I found these sites and also I had come to my wits end with my husbands procrastinating and behavior. I studied your site thoroughly, put 2 and 2 together and that added up to a Very Sound Spanking for my husband, Glen.

Glen may have thought he wanted a spanking but after I let him up he was singing a different tune. And I must admit so was I. After seeing your site I was much more open to the idea of disciplining my husband (for real) and after that first spanking I really got rid of a lot of frustrations, I've seen a positive change in Glen and I actually love the feeling of power and control I have as I redden his cute round bottom!

Here's how it happened that first time: Friday night last month, Glen's out with his friends late. I check the computer history and get very aquatinted with your site, especially the "tips and methods." I don't say anything but have an attitude on Saturday. Saturday, my husband wants to stay home to do yardwork and the bills (admirable) while my good friend and neighbor Shirley and I go to the beach. Sat. afternoon, Shirley and I return from the beach. Yardwork is incomplete (excuse: it got too hot) and bills have not been touched (promises to do them later). I'm getting mad now. I order Glen outside to put the garden tools away with a hard smack to his bottom and the warning, "You're gonna get it!" "OOH," say's Shirley, "somebody's in trouble," she giggles. I go and check the computer again to find more surfing of adult sites. Now I'm fuming. I call my husband inside. He comes in. "We are going to have a serious discussion," I said. Then I gave him two hard smacks to his bottom and sent him to our bedroom to wait for me. "Wo! He is in trouble," Shirley comments. I call to my husband as he's going in the bedroom, "And take that bathing suit off while your waiting." I ask Shirley to excuse us and I'll call her later about dinner. "Are you OK?" she asks. "I will be," I answered as I showed her out.

I went to the bedroom to find my husband still in his swimsuit. Get that suit off now I yelled. He did, while asking what was going on. I explained that I'd had it with his behavior, yadda yadda and then I grabbed his earlobe pulled him down over my knee on the bed and gave him a furious, fast, hand spanking that had him squirming all over. When I stopped, I held him down and lectured him on the new rules and punishment punctuating with hard slaps to his thighs. Do you understand? I smacked. Glen tried to reason with me only to get another complete spanking to his ass and thighs. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" I asked again. This time he did.

I then let Glen up, but made him lie down on the bed. I was still mad but excited. I turned my husband face down, and had him move forward so his shoulders were hanging over the edge of the bed. After I had gotten my leather belt, I stood behind his arms so he was pinned down and then gave my husband a good beating with my strap till he started to tear up.

As I got my shower, I made Glen stand in the corner in the bathroom and he stayed there till I was dressed. He was then sent to start working on the bills, still bare bottomed. He was allowed to put a towel on when Shirley came to the door. She asked,"How'd everything work out?" "Fine for me," I answered, "Not so good for Glen. I'll tell you about it over dinner."

I then told my husband, "Those bills better be done and this house vacuumed by the time we get back if you don't want a repeat episode." Before we left I made it a point to say to Shirley, "I want to go to the mall, I need to buy a

wooden hairbrush!" During dinner I excused myself and called home to see how things were going and to tell Glen to remove the towel and that he was to remain barebottomed for the rest of the weekend. Barebottomed is now the norm for him unless I say otherwise.

That was the first of already quite a few spankings for my husband, who is now much better behaved. I told Shirley everything at dinner that night and she knows that I've spanked Glen since then. She was also quite helpful in finding a good wooden hairbrush. Glen was really mad when I told him that Shirley knew so I had to spank him. He became very understanding. I'm ecstatic and wish that I had found your sight a long time ago. I don't think Glen was ever really spanked before but I'm having lunch with his mother in a week and I may ask her. She has commented on the change she has seen in her son so I'm contemplating letting her in on it also, will see.

I hope this letter is not too long. I'm sure I'll be writing again as I still have a lot to share.

Thanks again,
Katrina

WHERE IT STARTED

Dear Aunt Kay, I've always been into spanking since I can remember. And though she didn't know it my mother accommodated me from the time I was around 14. I was an only child, Mom was divorced and has a large company, but she usually was always there for me. When she wasn't, it was usually her assistant and good friend Sherry who was.

At around 14 I started to get into trouble and Mom was getting frazzled. One day Mom was called by the school to come pick me up and she had to have a conference with the principal. Mom was in meetings all day so Sherry was allowed to come in her place. The principal discussed the possibility of suspension with Sherry, who in turn using her negotiating and business skills asked the principal, "If I give you my word that his behavior will change immediately will you forget about suspension? " "Of course" the principal answered, "but how can you guarantee a change, you are not his mother?" "No, but his mother and I respect each others opinions and I think I can persuade her to take Allen on a little trip," Sherry said.

"A trip where?" Mr.Deebert asked. Sherry looked at me and answered, "I think it's time for this young man to take his first trip across his mothers knee!" And if she won't I will, I gave you my word. I went numb from embarrassment as they both looked at me. I wanted to be excited on the way home but nerves wouldn't let me.

Sherry waited with me till Mom came home and more than once she reiterated her feelings about my behavior and told me she was going to see to it that I got what I needed. Mom came home and Sherry really emphasized the seriousness of the situation and then she told Mom of her promise to the principal and how she thought the situation could be remedied, immediately.

Mom agreed, excused us both from the living room and then took me upstairs. Once upstairs Mom let me know immediately who was in control with a smack in the mouth when I started to talk back. Mom then very calmly and naturally took down my jeans and underpants, put me over her lap and gave me my first spanking ever.

She spanked long and hard until I was crying. Then she let me up and still bare from the waist down, Mom lectured me. After the lecture Mom made me sit on my bed as she got a leather belt from the closet and set it next to me before going downstairs.

A couple minutes later footsteps came up the wooden steps. Into my room came Sherry, who while standing bent me under her arm and said, "Now you're really going to get a good beating young man." With the belt she did just that, just as Mom had instructed her.

From then on either Sherry or Mom disciplined me whenever I needed it. Three months after I was married, it was Mom who instructed my new wife on how to handle me properly.

Tom

IT'S ALL IN THE ROLL OF THE DICE

Dear Auntie Kay,

I first mailed you over a year ago, unsure and very nervous. I had discovered your site some time before I first mailed you, and what it portrayed certainly attracted me. And soon after I mailed you, and you replied, my lady, the love of my life (she is called Liz), saw your site too and was enthralled.

You asked in your initial reply to keep you informed, and if you will forgive the delay, I hope you will consider my story another success, another male changed for the better.

I ordered a paddle, one that Liz picked out, and a lifestyle kit, and these arrived surprisingly quickly. It took a while to set the boundaries, and we never actually filled out the contract (and we have yet to tie the knot, strangely, that is something which has not been discussed for months. I like to think our relationship has been strengthened to the point that a formal tying of the knot is no longer necessary. We`ll see), but we got there in the end. The rules are most definitely in place, and let me say how wonderful it is to be controlled by a strong and intelligent lady, and above all, a very fair lady.

To be honest, it is not the full DWC lifestyle, its about half way there (I like to think I would have been willing to go all the way, but Liz did not make that choice necessary, although read on and you will see that she has her little refinements). Her rules are not particularly onerous in terms of domestic chores and behaviour, but they are strictly enforced. Whenever she decides I have been naughty, or have transgressed, she puts me across her knee (and sometimes, I think she does it to work out her frustrations at somebody or something else. But she is in charge, and she does not have to explain to me the reason). Trousers down, but she lets me keep my pants up. She uses her hand and gives me between 25 and 50 slaps. She smacks hard, and I certainly know about it afterwards. Its embarrassing too, particularly if she makes me stand in the corner afterwards. But this is not enough to have changed me.

Liz is certainly aware of this too, and there is one little refinement she insisted on. Her reasoning - formidable female logic - is that if it is all just a game, then something of the essence will be missing. Her little refinement, the wildcard, is a set of dice. When its spanking time, she gets the dice out, and if it is a pair of sixes, its for real! Paddle, bare behind, the lot.

It doesn`t happen that often, (I`m glad to say!) but it is enough to keep me on my toes. And how right you are. Nothing, but nothing, could have prepared me for that first real spanking, and I know she could have smacked harder. To be honest, it did make me seriously reconsider the whole lifestyle, and do you know what it is that kept me on line. It was the look in Liz`s eye afterwards. She obviously knew what I was thinking, and what I saw was not mocking, not pity, not (for want of a better word) triumph. It was a look in her eyes that said "so its just a game to you after all". It made me realize that up to then it essentially had been.

That was about six months ago, and I`ve had three "double sixes" since. Its not something I think I will ever get used to and it is pretty awful, but the benefits to our relationship have been enormous. Liz still has to maintain discipline, but seldom for petty reasons (I do have my lapses though). We no longer argue (I wouldn`t dare!). I hope this does not appear too strange, but I am now subject to law. Liz`s law, woman`s law, and while nobody seeing me (or us) outside would ever realize it, I am subject to Liz`s law 24 hours a day. She just knows if I`ve transgressed, and acts accordingly.

But it has also brought out her gentle side, a side of her I thought I knew but didn`t. Its not something I could describe easily, but her true gentle side is wonderful. I suppose its because my puerile and childish side is no longer there.

Thank you, most sincerely.

Gerald (UK)

2/7/01 Dear Aunty Kay,

Thanks for the reply and I am not a little relieved at your charming reply, because I was not sure how it would go down. I waited so long to reply because, like I`m sure all novice couples, it was not initially clear how things would turn out, and I only wanted to report success. Had things petered out, I`m sure anything I had reported to you would have simply reflected my biases, and as such would not have been particularly instructive. But Liz has imposed rules which I am only now beginning to appreciate. I am starting to see the world through a woman`s eyes, understanding the behavior a woman finds acceptable and what a woman does not, particularly in how I relate to her. What most women simply put up with or accommodate, the DWC woman does not. And after the initial shock (I`m not going to insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise) and trepidation of a lady in charge, its something I would recommend to any man, really!

The dice though, were a stroke of genius. I would never have thought of them in a million years. They provide that element of fear without which no punishment can be real, by making severe punishment a real possibility. It stopped it becoming simply an erotic fantasy of mine. Don't get me wrong, Liz is an expert spanker (she`s had plenty of opportunity to hone her skills over the last year!) and after a session across her knee, its a few hours before I can sit down again. But despite the pain, I cannot suppress strong erotic feelings. I`m sorry, I just can`t (believe me, I try).

Liz, for her part, selected the paddle, but when it arrived, and we started out, she could not bring herself to wield it in the way a true DWC woman should. It was not what I expected, and I would be interested to know if this is an experience of other DWC women at the start. One bit of advice she did follow though was in enjoying herself. While she could not, at first bring herself to really thrash me with the paddle, she is a healthy, red blooded woman, and she thoroughly enjoys spanking me with her hand.

I was rather enjoying it too, and she realized that something had to be done. That's when she thought of the dice (it took about two months. She suggested other options, one of which that she be a DWC woman for one day a week, or every other day, but it was obvious that this would have turned it into even more of a game). I accepted this, because, as she knew it would, it appealed to the gambler in me (and in all men). A pair of sixes, I thought. 1 in 36, so what. How wrong I was!

That first real spanking was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. It was almost two days before I was comfortable sitting down again, and I don't mind admitting I was in tears and crying like a little kid for her to stop. She didn't, and I know she was uncomfortable doing it for the first time, and that's when I realized the steel in her, when I saw for myself the true power of a woman. And I was surprised at how strong she can be. I must be about 60lb heavier than her, but she held me in place despite my struggling. I've never felt so embarrassed in my life, and I've never felt so truly naked in front of anybody before. It was a Wednesday that first session, and the next two days at work were not particularly comfortable. I don't know if colleagues noticed that I was finding any excuse I could to stay on my feet, but I was in agony and it was difficult keeping my mind in my work. From that moment on, things changed. Liz was the boss, absolutely, and the last vestiges of my old self, if I can put it like that, disappeared. In hindsight, its like boot camp. Being broken down and then built up again, built up into something better. That's what Liz has done to me, and I love her tenfold more for doing it.

And what else she has done (since that memorable evening, and now that she is confidently and totally in charge) is to inject her DWC activities with a touch of humour. We keep our DWC lifestyle to ourselves, but that does not prevent Liz from airing a few little in jokes. A couple of her female friends (she never does this in front of male acquaintances, because they would all assume that it was about sex) have heard her jokingly mention a "double six" to me. Perhaps they assume its some sort of sexual position, but they would be amazed if they knew what it really meant.

And one of her little jokes I must let you in on. Yours is not the only site that deals with dominant ladies, as you are well aware, but I think its fair to say that most of these others do not deal with the lifestyle aspects as completely as you do. There was an image in the gallery a few months ago that caught Liz`s eye so she installed it as the wallpaper on my PC as "a little reminder", with strict instructions not to remove it. Its an image that both frightens and excites me. Because the faces cannot be seen, its very easy to imagine that it is a picture of Liz spanking me. And there have been occasions when I have had friend round working on my PC (impossible to avoid sometimes) when I have had a bit of explaining to do. With male colleagues, I can laugh it off, after all, it is a common enough fantasy, but one of these days I`m sure one of my visitors is going to be a woman. If that happens, I may have to risk Liz`s wrath!

Its so nice to talk openly at last, and to feel confident enough to do so, and I have a lot to thank you for. If you can, and are willing, please make my email available to others, I would enjoy sharing experiences.

Yours, with very best wishes

Gerald (and Liz. She didn't help me compose this, but she is with me in spirit).

Dear Aunt Kay:

My wife is really getting into the DWC in a big way. In a very short time, I have learned that she is THE BOSS!!

Sheila tells me that she has taken many ideas from your true stories and fiction pages to complement her own. She has loaded me down with household chores and other assignments. It's my pleasure to do them because it makes her happy. For example, this place better be spotless. I think it's good for me too. She also read something about some guy having to write sentences. I get a lot of those.

She said that we men are by nature more immature and self destructive than women. She monitors every aspect of my conduct in a tireless manner. My days of eating unhealthy, drinking, missing work, skipping workouts, smoking, cussing, male ego and other such conduct is a thing of the past. My wife simply forbids it! I can see the improvement in my life.

My wife promises that she is going to make her man behave and "bring me up right". She tells me that a good husband should be disciplined regularly and severely by a wife who loves him.

I was not always the best at managing money. So, I now turn over my check to my wife. She deposits all of it into an account that is in her name only. Our house is also in her name. In reality, I am broke. We both felt that economic and financial power would give her even a greater sense of control. She loves the way things are between us. If I ever pulled out of our disciplinary agreement, Sheila might be inclined to leave and leave me with no money. Not that I need it, but that gives me more incentive to stay with the program.

One area of concern: My wife spanks for results. Of course my wife has absolute freedom and my blessing to spank as long and as hard as she feels necessary to get the results that she wants. But Aunt Kay, it sure does hurt! I'll be at my limit. I'll be crying and thinking I just can't take it any more. But then, I'll look over my shoulder and see Sheila with this devilish grin on her face. I'll know that she's not finished yet and there is not one damn thing I can do about it! She's tough. But I wouldn't want it any other way.

Love the site!

Herbert

All things considered, Susan had been quite patient. For a good ten minutes she had listened to David's rantings flow through the telephone in a seemingly incessant stream. She was not altogether unsympathetic to his frustration. But nevertheless, he was just being plain grumpy and irritable. And the solution was all too obvious. "David, stop. This discussion has ended and you are in for a long hard spanking tonight. Maybe that will give you something else to think about for a while," Susan pronounced.

Immediately a bolt of terror flashed through the pit of David's gut. A trip over Susan's knee was not the stuff of fun and fantasy. He did not want a dose of Susan's hairbrush. And he especially did not want one tonight. Already depressed and upset over their argument, he was definitely "not in the mood" for the thorough bottom blistering that he knew Susan would deliver.

The immediate change in David's tone and attitude was nothing short of remarkable, "Oh, please, Susan, not that, not tonight. I am really, really sorry. I just got carried away, that's all. You know how much I love you, baby. I never meant to upset you. I promise - not another word about it." Susan replied softly but unyieldingly, "I know you love me, David, and you'll love me even more after I finish spanking you tonight. I know you don't think so now, but you will. I love you, too, David, and you'll just have to trust me - you need a good sound spanking. It really is for the best. But I have to get back to work now. So I'll see you when I get home, and we'll take care of it right then and there, and get it out of the way. Bye now."

David slowly hung up the phone and buried his face in his hands, a sinking feeling settling into his stomach as his bottom began to twitch and tingle involuntarily as he nervously anticipated his forthcoming ordeal. Soon, David sank into a solemn reverie. He had only himself to blame. He had been in the wrong, and they both knew it. And why he had lost control and started with his whining and ranting was incomprehensible. He had been spanked more than once for that same thing, he certainly should have known better.

David briefly pondered the idea that maybe this was the time to give up their disciplinary relationship. Susan had told him that he could opt out of the arrangement at any time if he had truly decided it was not for him after all. But she would not go back and forth with it, playing games. He either wanted to be a disciplined husband, or he didn't. She would not leave him over his decision to cancel their contract, but neither would she remain in a relationship with constant bickering and arguing. If he did not choose to have her impose discipline on him, he would have to find a way to become self disciplined.

But he would not end it and they both knew it. In spite of his genuine dread of the excruciatingly painful paddlings he received bare bottom over Susan's knee, he did not really want to give them up. The spankings were undeniably both unpleasant and quite painful, but the idea of his submission in a way that redeemed him through very real physical pain, and in a way that many would find humiliating and degrading satisfied him in a way that was completely beyond his comprehension.

And, he had asked for the relationship, he reflected, as his thoughts drifted back over the past couple of years.

It had started as play, with David introducing spanking into their sexual explorations. While spanking had been a life long fantasy for David, Susan had thought it somewhat kinky at first, but had gradually warmed to the idea. Although they had switched some at first, it soon became evident that David's passion was to bottom, and Susan surprised herself by discovering how much she enjoyed the sense of power and domination she experienced when playing the top role.

The spankings had remained light and playful for a time, with Susan giving David relatively brief hand spankings, and maybe a few swats with a padded ping pong paddle, prior to their making love. David had experienced little actual pain, mostly a mild sting, with an occasional zinger thrown in for good measure.

However, David's real desire, so he believed, was a real disciplinary spanking, the kind he had read of so many times in the stories that appeared on the Net. Countless times he had fantasized about being taken over a woman's knee, and his bare bottom subjected to a long and hard paddling with the hairbrush, the kind that would leave his rear red and blistered, and tears in his eyes.

But David just couldn't bring himself to express these secret desires to Susan, who was still relatively uneducated in the ways of spanking. He was already struggling with the idea that he was somehow diminishing his masculinity by taking the bottom role, even in the mild spanking play they had enjoyed thus far. To ask her to deliver the kind of disciplinary spanking he so often fantasized about, and to explain what that entailed, was simply too much for him.

The fateful event that was to change all that was so simple it was almost anticlimactic. David found a web site. He was just surfing when he stumbled on "The Disciplinary Wives Club". Here he marveled as "Aunt Kay" encouraged wives to take matters "in hand" with their bad boy husbands, and even included detailed instructions on how to properly spank their errant spouses. And they were exactly the kind of spankings he so often fantasized about, perhaps even more so.

He had read with almost morbid fascination Aunt Kay's section on techniques, in which she advocated bare bottom, over the knee spankings, delivered long and hard with the legendary hairbrush. When hubby was finally let up, she had postulated, his eyes should be wet with tears, his knees quivering, and his bottom very well blistered. Her concluding remark had been, "The longer and harder you spank, the more he will love you for it."

That final remark haunted him, touched something deep and dark far down in his soul, as he read the pages in the site over and over. This was it, he finally admitted to himself, the realization of his fantasies, to be the disciplined husband of a disciplinary wife.

Some time later, Susan returned from her shopping trip. And David, in a great leap of faith and courage, managed to smile and say, as casually and light heartedly as he could possibly manage, "Susan, come take a look at this web site. It looks like it's right up your alley."

Susan glanced over David's shoulder to see what he had found, and immediately said, "Wow!, what's this about?"

She spent an hour or so seemingly engrossed in the information emanating from the screen, as David nervously scurried about, putting groceries away, making Susan a cup of coffee, and generally doing anything he could think of stay busy, trying not to drive himself insane wondering what she must be thinking.

Finally, Susan turned away from the screen. She remained silent for a moment, seeming to gather her thoughts, and then said simply, "Dave, is this what you want?"

Dave hesitated and considered changing his mind, telling her that he just thought it was "funny" or "interesting", considering their spanking play. But, he had come so far to even show her the site, he couldn't lie to her now.

Soon he replied, softly, seriously, "Yes, Susan, I think it is. At least I think I would like to experience it."

Susan surprised him with a smile and a giggle, "Oh good! I was hoping you would say that. Are you ever in for it the next time you leave the toilet seat up!"

They laughed together, and with the ice broken, talked for hours about their desires, and the details of their arrangement. David was able to confess his most secret fantasies, and Susan was able to admit that their spanking play had sparked something she didn't know was in her, a passion for disciplinary dominance.

By dinnertime, they had typed up a preliminary contract outlining their rules for a disciplinary relationship, and had gone out to their favorite steak house to celebrate their new arrangement.They had even stopped at the mall on the way home to find Susan a real wooden hairbrush.

They had no sooner arrived home than Susan followed David into the bathroom to discover that he had left the toilet seat up. "Damn it, David," Susan exclaimed, "we just talked about you not leaving the seat up this afternoon. You know that was one of the things we agreed you would be spanked for."

David stammered, "Sorry, I just forgot. You know it takes a while to break old habits. But I promise I won't forget again." David really had forgotten to lower the seat, lost in thought about all that had transpired through the day. And he was nervous. In spite of all his fantasies, the reality of the contract and the purchase of the hairbrush was beginning to sink in. He began to wonder if he had made a very big mistake.

"Well, David, we're just going to help you make sure you don't forget again. It looks like we'll be breaking in this hairbrush sooner than I expected. Take off your pants and meet me at the sofa," Susan replied curtly.

David gulped, "Don't you think I should get one warning, Susan? Don't you think that would be more fair?"

"David, you just signed a contract this afternoon agreeing to no arguments about your discipline, and now you're already arguing.You asked for this arrangement, and you're going to live up to it. Now, do as I said." And with that, Susan had turned and walked away.

David removed his pants and underwear and followed Susan into the living room, finding her sitting in the middle of the sofa, hairbrush in hand.

Susan said nothing, but tapped the brush against her thigh, the signal they had agreed on for him to lie across her legs.

Remembering that the contract called for extra punishment for anything other than immediate compliance to this signal, he quickly laid him across her legs, the sofa supporting his body. As was suggested in "Aunt Kay's" spanking tips, she wrapped her right leg over his two legs to help hold him in place once the spanking began.

David's mind briefly wandered to remember the one time a few weeks later when he had argued about crossing her knee on command. That had been a serious error. Susan had jumped up and beat him mercilessly across his bottom and thighs. Grabbing his arm, she had chased him around in a circle, furiously swinging the paddle against his bare bottom and thighs, re-enacting that age old spanking dance. He had finally managed to drop to the floor and beg for mercy. But Susan had been hardly merciful. He had still received his longest spanking to date over Susan's knee,and after corner time, had been soundly switched for his disobedience. He had been reduced to sobbing by the time the nasty switch had worked its painful black magic on him. He would never make that mistake again.

Susan had begun that first spanking with, "David, I simply will not tolerate you leaving the toilet seat up. It is thoughtless and inconsiderate. We have already discussed that you will get a spanking for this, and that is exactly what is going to happen. And you can believe that you will be remembering this spanking every time you sit down for a few days to come, and maybe that will help you remember that I have to sit down on the toilet. Do you understand?"

Susan swung her hairbrush for the first time.WHACK!! It was only a moderately hard swat but it was far different from the mild swats that he had received by hand and occasionally the padded ping pong paddle. It stung and burned and hurt. The very real pain of the hairbrush was a shock; David really had no idea of the reality of what he had so often fantasized about, but with first crack of the hairbrush, reality became all too clear.

He gasped, "Yes ma'am, I understand. I promise it will never happen again." "I hope not, David, because the very next time you do, you will find yourself right back over my knee again, and I will have to spank you much harder and longer. Do you understand that also?"

WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! Susan alternated cheek to cheek, striking a bit harder this time, finding that she enjoyed the sense of power she felt. David yelped, the hairbrush stung him badly. He had no idea that it would really hurt so much. "Yes ma'am, I promise I understand. I promise I will never ever forget again."

"Well, we'll see. I'm sure you will try to remember after the I get through giving your bottom a good long blistering." WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! Susan delivered two to each cheek in rapid succession. She noted with satisfaction the pink glow that already beginning to form on David's rear.

David groaned and buried his face in the sofa cushion. It hurt so bad. He could never have imagined.

"You really should be ashamed, David, having to have your bottom spanked like this. You would think a grown man could remember a simple little thing like leaving the toilet seat down."

WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! Susan increased both the tempo and force of the swats, quickly administering four sharp swats to each cheek. His bottom began to turn a deeper shake of pink. David gasped, yelled, and swore into the pillow as the paddle burned and tormented his exposed back side. His rear was stinging badly now and he felt moisture beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.

WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! Susan moved lower this time, catching the underside of his buns with four brisk strokes each. She wanted to make sure she painted his entire bottom a bright red by the time she finished with him. If David really wanted to be a disciplined husband, she was going to make very sure that he knew what he was in for.Tears were forming in David's eyes now, while he gasped and moaned as the merciless hairbrush set his ass on fire. He hoped he wouldn't cry, but the pain was so overwhelming.

Susan paused for a moment. She had followed Aunt Kay's advice to begin with sets of four and then eight before proceeding to the main spanking, a warm up to make sure the shock didn't overwhelm him. David did appear to be over the initial shock. His head was buried in the pillow and his breathing was heavy. He seemed to have accepted his fate and given in to the ordeal to come.

So Susan got down to business, peppering David's quickly reddening bare bottom with a nonstop rain of wooden terror. She made certain no spot went unpunished, painting his entire rear and upper thighs a colorful collage of pink, red, and purple.

David braced himself when the swats resumed, hoping he could endure the next set without totally losing his composure. But the terrible hairbrush kept coming, viciously attacking his tortured bottom. The stinging pain was overpowering, nothing like he had ever imagined. Somewhere around the twelfth swat of the latest barrage, he finally gave in and pleaded, "Susan, please stop! I've learned my lesson. I swear!"

Susan only replied, "Stop!? Hon, I've only just begun. I'm going to make damn sure you know what you have coming to you when you don't listen to me! And I'm going to make sure you keep on remembering every time you sit down for the next week." At Susan's pronouncement of an extended sentence, David completely lost his composure, kicking, begging, pleading, and screaming as the paddle continued its relentless and savage assault on his battered buttocks.

Susan was not at all sympathetic to David's plight. She briefly considered that she must have a natural inclination for this sort of disciplinary dominance. She was definitely experiencing a sense of satisfaction from the damage she was inflicting upon David's now red bottom, as well as his dramatic repentance.

The paddling continued unabated. Susan worked the hairbrush repeatedly over every square inch of David's glowing backside.She alternated cheek to cheek, thigh to thigh, top to bottom, then delivered several swats to a chosen sweet spot, before moving to the next.

David was lost to all but the searing, burning pain of the wood against his skin. He had tried to be strong and resist it, but it was too much. Finally he gave into it. Tears turned to sobs as the paddle continued its seemingly unending dance across his severely tormented bottom.

And as David began to sob, Susan decided he had learned what a real spanking was all about. She knew this had been his fantasy, and she also knew that he was surely shocked by the reality of what he had asked for. His bottom was a solid red, spotted with purple bruises. He had kicked and screamed, begged for her to stop, and now was sobbing openly. Certainly, he must have had no idea of the truth behind his fantasy.

She completed David's ordeal with a dozen swats, the hardest yet, all to the exact center of his bottom. David's sobs became gut wrenching, but it was finally over. Slowly he had recovered, as Susan gently rubbed his bottom, and then taken him into her arms.

He found himself reflecting warmly on that first spanking, in spite of the awful pain to his backside. He vividly recalled the soreness he had experienced when sitting for the next several days.David's reverie was suddenly interrupted by the clammer of the telephone. It was Susan calling on her cell phone to let him know that she would be home shortly and that he should assume the waiting position, meaning that when she walked through the door he would have to be standing naked in the corner. It was one of a number of traditions that had been established during his last two years as a disciplined husband.

David wasted no time stripping and heading for the corner. She would be home in no time and he certainly did not want to earn a switching by not complying to the disciplinary rules Susan had set. A switching, in addition to whatever spanking he had coming anyway, had become the expected punishment for failing to follow the rules of discipline. David hated the switch the worst of all, and Susan knew it. So she had reserved it for what she deemed the most serious of offenses, failure to immediately comply with her disciplinary instructions. If she allowed any slack with this, she knew he would soon become un-manageable. And she did not allow any slack at all. She showed absolutely no mercy when she was had to use the switch on him, and David tried his best to make sure she did not have to use it often.

Momentarily Susan came in the front door and was immediately all business. She removed the hairbrush from her purse before setting it down.

Susan began, "David, how many time have you been spanked for ranting, bitching, and whining - five or six times? Well, obviously you are not getting the message. And I've really had enough of it. So, I'm going to try extra hard to make sure you get the message today. Just so you know what to expect - you'll be getting the hairbrush and the strap. We'll see if that will get through to you."

David's heart sunk, turning into a pit of fear and terror in his gut. His usual punishment was an over-the-knee hairbrushing, and occasionally a standup session with the big paddle or the strap, but, with the very rare exception of a switching for resistance, he'd never received an over-the-knee spanking and a standup spanking. The dread of his forthcoming ordeal was nearly overwhelming. It took all his will power not to argue, but knowing that arguing would add a switching to his punishment helped him to merely acquiesce and say, "Yes ma'am".

Susan sat on the couch and said, "Come here, David." David walked to stand on her right said, knowing the drill all too well. Susan looked somewhat irritated and asked, "And what do you say David?" David gulped and realized he should have asked for his punishment without prompting. It was another of the rules that Susan had implemented over time.

He quickly stammered, "Susan, I am so very sorry for ranting today. I know very well that I should have controlled myself. Would you please spank me, as long as hard as you think necessary, to help me learn to behave properly in the future?"

Susan answered simply, "Very well," and tapped the brush against her leg. David quickly laid himself over her knee. Susan promptly repositioned him, wrapping one leg around him. And Susan immediately went to work, drowning his bare bottom in a veritable deluge of hard, stinging whacks. Lecturing him the whole time, she paddled his quickly reddening backside nonstop. As David had asked in the ritual request for his punishment, she did indeed spank him long and hard, administering perhaps two hundred cracks of the brush before finally finishing in a fierce volley that left David heaving and sobbing.

Still sniffling, try to regain his composure, Susan had led David to the corner. There Susan had ordered him to stand, hands at his side, and not to dare even think of rubbing his well blistered bottom.

His reprieve was short-lived, however, as Susan shortly returned with strap in hand. It was an old fashioned razor strap, one that she had found rummaging in through an old chest in her parents' attic. It was now kept well oiled and ready for use. David had felt its bite a good dozen times before, but never immediately after a paddling. His bottom was still stinging and burning as Susan ordered him to assume the position.

David could barely stand the thought that he would be whipped again so soon after the very thorough paddling he had just received, but he did not hesitate, not daring to risk a switching also. So he bent over the back of the spanking chair, grasping the seat firmly with both hands.

Susan wasted no time. As soon as he was bent over, the strap cut through the air and landed terrifyingly across his upper thighs. David literally screamed in agony.

But Susan showed no sympathy. Again and again the strap sliced through the air and cut into David's already well spanked bottom. By the time the twentieth stroke landed on his scourged rear, David was almost incoherent with pain and sobbing vociferously. His bottom was a jumble of red, black, blue, and purple. Bruises and strap marks intermingled.

Susan paused there, briefly wondering if she had perhaps gone too far. But remembering the advice given to her online by another disciplinary wife - better to err on the side of severity if you really want to make your point, she told David, "There will be five more. I want you to remember with each one what this punishment is for. I expect you to take control of yourself. I do not expect to hear anymore of your ranting, bitching, and whining ever again. If I have to spank you again for this, God help you. Do you understand?"

David managed, between sobs, to reply, "Yes ma'am, I understand." And then Susan delivered her final five cracks of the strap, each one finding its way across the middle of his very well spanked bottom. And when it was over, it was over. The debt was paid, penance was done. Susan helped David up and held him, gently rubbing his burning rear. David sobbed, both from pain and emotional release. "That's ok," she whispered, "it's all done now. I'm sure you've learned you lesson well this time."

EPILOGUE

After David had been treated with lotion, and recovered somewhat, they had gone out to their favorite restaurant. And despite some not inconsiderable discomfort sitting, David found himself in quite a good mood. The food, drinks, and service were excellent as always at the small steak house. However, it was so much more than that.

He sipped on his drink, reflecting. He had just received perhaps the most severe spanking that Susan had ever given him. Yet, he was content and satisfied. The air was clear. There had been no arguments or anger. He had misbehaved and Susan had lovingly disciplined him for it. He had taken his punishment and all was forgiven. It was over and done with.

He glanced across the table at Susan with warmth in his heart and a twinkle in his eye, realizing how much he loved this woman. She was not just his wife, but his lover, best friend, and soul mate. She did so much for him, took such good care of him, made him laugh when no one else could. Yet she would not hesitate to turn him over her knee and blister his bare bottom until he cried like a well spanked school boy, if she felt his behavior merited it. And suddenly he realized, just as Susan had predicted, he did

A Story by Marta

Marta and Steve had been married three years, and had not yet started a family. They had played some spanking scenes as fantasy enactment, and Marta sometimes found it exciting. But lately, Steve had started to pick on Marta about her spankings; in fact, he had become quite overbearing.

"Marta, I want you to spank me hard with the hairbrush. Just because you like those little patty-cake spankings doesn't mean that I do. You think light spankings are exciting, and you might enjoy really whaling into me if you would give it a try. The bottom line is that you are not satisfying my needs, and you don't seem to care. I keep telling you that if you could use spanking for real discipline in addition to sex, and we would both benefit."

"Steve, you always want kinky sex and spanking. Don't you understand that women prefer tender sex and romantic lovemaking?"

"Oh, Marta, you know that I love everything about you, the way you look, smell, taste. I'll do anything to meet YOUR needs. I can't help it that my fantasy is that you will get strict with me and spank me to enforce your will. Sometimes it seems like you don't even care about my needs at all!"

"Quit being so pushy! First, I don't think you even know what you're asking for. It's one thing to fantasize about being spanked hard, but a good dose of that heavy brush would bruise you purple and make you cry like a baby. I swear, I think you have a case of arrested development; you sound more like some adolescent than a grown man. I probably SHOULD spank some sense into you. All this constant nagging is getting very tiresome, and I don't appreciate it one bit. I'll bet I could end all this silliness in a few minutes over my lap if I wanted to."

"OK, please do it. I will submit to anything you propose. But I think we need some mechanism to assure that you don't chicken out and let me off too easy."

"Steve, you are so patronizing about this; it's really getting on my nerves."

"Sorrrree! I just want a wife who will TRY to meet my needs."

"OK, buster, I'm gonna meet your needs, and then you will be 'sorrree', after all. As a matter of fact, I know a little more about hard spanking that I have ever let on to you, and I think maybe it is time for me 'share MY feelings'. It seems like all we've been hearing about lately are YOUR needs and desires. You want a good spanking? Go into the bedroom and take off your jeans and boxers. I want to see a bare backside when I come in there in five minutes. And you will speak only when I ask you to. Do you understand?"

"Yes. . . . Thank you."

"You are going to thank me, all right. You'll thank me for stopping. Except you'll be crying so hard I'll have to guess at what you're saying. Do not speak a word when I come in there, if you know what's good for you. Now, get!"

When she came in the bedroom, he was standing facing the corner (she hadn't asked for that, but she liked it, and made a mental note), bare-bottomed and shivering with lust. He couldn't see what she was holding: a deck of playing cards and her old sorority paddle. She went to the closet and got two bathrobe sashes and two of his tackier neckties (not to worry, he had plenty more). In a bossy tone, she demanded (although he had not moved an inch), "Do NOT take your eyes out of the corner. Now, where is that hairbrush you think you like so much?"

"It's in my underwear drawer."

"How appropriate. Now get over on the bed. Take the reading pillow and drape yourself over it, on your stomach, you know just how I mean."

As he scurried to comply, she went for the hairbrush. It was a formidable implement, probably an antique, based on its heft and polish. This will do just fine, she thought, but the maple paddle resonated with her, too, and she wanted to swing it as well. Tapping the hairbrush against her palm a few times, she was glad she was not the one on the receiving end. Her college days had been an education in more than one way.

She noticed his obvious arousal and smirked at his selfish innocence. She would take care of that in about 3 swats. Maybe 2. And then she would give him about 100 more. At least. She mused to herself, "he might have warm memories in the morning, but he'll be weeping and wailing before these ties come loose tonight."

In short order, she had secured each of his legs and arms to the bed frame, with his buttocks presented at a perfect angle. He had a handsome pair, shapely and springy and altogether inviting. She tapped them with the brush and decided they were quite resilient. This was going to be fun.

"Now, Steve, I have never told you about this before. When I was in sorority, about ten of the best-looking of the actives chose several of their favorite pledges each year to join a select group known as "The Clique". There was a secret hazing day, when we went to one girl's father's hunting camp, and they made us play something called the 'Game of Chance.' But, take it from me, there was no chance involved. We got blistered with sorority paddles, just like sorority girls from an earlier era. They dressed us in thin cotton leotards, and the paddles hurt more than you can imagine. And those leotards were embarrassingly revealing, especially bent over like that! I think I got it worse because my rear is so prominent. You know, the squeaky wheel gets the grease, and I guess the girl with the protuberant rump is the one that gets whacked the most and the hardest. What was really unfair was that, for some reason, I felt ashamed when I sat for the next four days, like it was my own fault they had been so mean to me.

"So tonight, Stevie, you and I are going to play the Game of Chance, and I think you can guess who is going to be the loser. You want a hard spanking? I'm betting you will never ask for one again, Buster. Because when you hear the rules, you will understand that there is not too much 'chance' involved." And my goal is for you to feel a little bit ashamed of your sore bottom when you sit tomorrow."

She laid out the paddle, the hairbrush and the deck of cards where he could see them. Then, she explained the rules: "Since your hands are tied, I will draw the cards for you. Here is how it works.

"We will shuffle the deck and draw a card. If it is a joker, you will get 10 swats with the sorority paddle, as hard as I can give them, then we re-shuffle, and draw again. If it is any other card, we will try to match it on the next draw. The match card will be the other card which is the same denomination and color. So the match for the 7 of hearts is the 7 of diamonds. The game is over when we draw the match card. Every time we don't draw the match card, you pay a penalty. Then penalty for getting the wrong card is two swats with the hairbrush. If you are lucky, you won't get the paddle. But I don't think you are going to be that lucky.

Steve did the math in his head. "That could be about a hundred and four swats."

"Actually, Stevie, you are forgetting about the rule with the Joker: Any time you draw a joker, I'll use the sorority paddle to give you 10. Those will be memorable, I promise. And then . . . . I'll reshuffle and we will keep going for that match card, smacking your precious rear merrily as we go."

"My God, Marta, that could go on for hours, because the chances of getting the Joker and the match card are the same."

"Sorry to break some more bad news, Sweetheart: each deck of playing cards comes with 2 jokers, and this is a brand new pack. And I am not going to let up until we match, no matter how many times we have to re-shuffle. In the sorority, those wicked actives put 3 extra jokers in the deck, and that's why I had to ride back to the sorority house laying on my tummy. But I wouldn't do that to you, because 2 jokers is enough."

And so they played. Marta didn't swing the hairbrush full strength in the beginning, because she knew that he was going to be tied over the bed for quite a while. She just used her forearm, with a nice wrist snap for a very smart crack against his plump flesh. The first card drawn--the one to match--was the Ace of Hearts, perfect because it is bright red and shaped rather like a pair of buttocks. She giggled with delight. From then on, each draw was punctuated by two loud cracks of the flat wooden brush on his handsome bottom. They got harder each time as her confidence grew. The hairbrush made quite an impression during those first few minutes. In fact, he was sweating and struggling by about the 7th or 8th draw.

And then came the first joker. After she had applied the paddle the prescribed 10 times, the meaty portion of his backside was a shade resembling Cabernet Savignon. She gave him a brief rest, and then, leaving the Ace of Hearts turned up, she re-shuffled. Her cool demeanor as she shuffled just broke him emotionally, and he began to cry a river of tears as she repeatedly shuffled and cut the deck, taunting him. The next time the hairbrush smacked down was pure agony, and from that point on, he wailed aloud with each solid smack. And they were all solid. Toward the end, he stopped struggling and crying out; he just sobbed gently and resigned himself to the ongoing conflagration in the southern hemisphere. He almost seemed to be ignoring the cards as she turned them, just absorbing the swats as they rained down relentlessly. That is, until the next Joker, when he moaned again and trembled a bit.

Actually, his luck turned out to be not so bad, considering the odds. He only drew three Jokers, but she used the paddle with the kind of leverage Martina Hingis puts into her forehand slam. The rectangular imprints of the paddle created an artistic, not to mention, dramatic, visual delight. By the time the Ace of Diamonds turned up, he had received about 120 with the brush in addition to the 30 with the paddle. NOW he knew what a hard spanking felt like. And it was not sexy, not at all. Not to Steve, that is. But Marta, well, she was quite stimulated. So when she untied him, the first order of business was to lay back and place both hands on the crown of his head, to direct him nonverbally to his familiar duties. Her relief was speedy and absolute, and she more-or-less passed out with exhaustion. He laid beside her, on his tummy of course, and eventually drifted off asleep.

In the morning, at the breakfast table, he ate standing up. Her first question, of course, was: "Well, are you satisfied? Was that the spanking you wanted?"

"It hurts so badly I almost couldn't take a shower. I tried to put on jeans but had to wear baggy pants instead. I can sit--barely--but I don't think I'll be wanting a spanking anytime soon."

"Well, what you want is no longer what concerns me. What I want is some respect and understanding of my wishes, and now I know how to get that. I really should have done this sooner."

"Marta, you really got my attention last night, and I don't want any more of that any time soon. It wasn't sexually rewarding for me at all, I'm afraid."

"Good, it wasn't supposed to be. Just expect to receive more of the same any time you displease me."

"But . . . wh-wh-wh-what if I don't think it's fair?"

"Too bad. Since I intend to spank you whenever you are disrespectful or sarcastic to me, I'm sure you usually WON'T think it's fair. Just expect me to settle all our little disagreements over my lap from now on: rudeness, selfishness, thoughtlessness, all your bad habits. And I am not going to tolerate your rudeness or abuse directed at any other people either. And that especially includes my mother and her boyfriend. I really resented what you said to her about him last Tuesday. It was WAY over the line, and you will be punished if I hear anything like that again."

"Oh, come on! He's a pompous jerk, Marta, and your mother is a fool if she can't see through his act."

"Young man, there's one person who is acting like a fool at this minute, and it's you. I just told you what to expect when you talk like that. You must be deliberately testing me. Go get the hairbrush and march right back here and take down your trousers. We will NOT have ridicule and disrespect about my family."

"Marta, please. I can barely sit. My rear hurts when I walk. I'm sorry. You don't have to spank me."

"Steve, when you are to be spanked, there shall be no discussion or disagreement. I want you in that corner, pants down, while I finish eating. Then we are going to have a dialog on my terms. I think about 50 swats with your favorite implement will do you a world of good right now. And guess what: I could give you a hundred without straining my arm or my conscience one bit. As a matter of fact, I will do whatever I need to get your attention. Now bring me the hairbrush and get in the corner with your pants down, unless you want more than 50. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am," as he wiped away a tear with a trebling hand. He waited in the corner while she finished her leisurely breakfast and a second cup of coffee. She moved her straight backed kitchen chair to an open space where she could easily raise her arm all the way back behind her head.

"OK, Bad Boy, turn around and get over my lap."

As he turned she disapprovingly noted that he was once again sexually excited. Tsk, tsk. His learning experience was going to be an ongoing one. She made a silent oath to herself: we WILL make this marriage work, but it will take some time and effort. She involuntarily squirmed a little against the chair, and licked her lips with anticipation. "Right over, young man, and put your right hand behind your back. I want you to work on staying still. And I want you to listen to me because we have a few important things to discuss. I don't think you will be wanting me to have to repeat myself!"

My husband and I have only recently discovered DWC on the Internet, but when we did, it was wonderful. We found that we were not alone. I only wish there was a branch of the club here in the UK.

Of course we knew of S & M, but we have never seen our relationship in that light. I have disciplined Tom since the second year of our marriage and I have to say not only has it made our marriage better but without it we would probably not have got through to our third anniversary. Tom was always headstrong and selfish, and our early married life saw many rows. One night, after a particularly acrimonious set-to, he said, "You treat me like one of your pupils." I shot back, "No I don't. If I did I would be caning you right now."

It was a good example of saying what you don't mean while having a row. I was a 26 year-old schoolteacher and had no right to use the cane. But I had often sent boys and girls to their respective heads for the cane after being advised by a teacher that the only way to deal with a particularly difficult class was to let them know early on that I would not hesitate to do so. Once I was present as a witness when a girl was being punished for a particularly nasty case of bullying and admired the cool calm way the girl's head brought the rebellious girl to submit to the six strokes to which she was sentenced.

Back to that evening. My husband hesitated for a moment, then said, "You don't mean that." He was probably right, but in times like that you don't back down, and I said I did. In bed, he tried to snuggle up to me, but I rejected his advances, and both of us stayed awake silently for a long time. But the change in his attitude did not go unnoticed and it started a train of thought. By this time I was pretty sure that our marriage was heading for the rocks and wondered whether it was even worth trying to save. Next day at school I phoned the company which supplied disciplinary equipment. After a discussion with a saleslady, I ordered two canes, a middle-weight one and another which was described as a 'Reformatory cane' suitable for use on rebellious adolescents.

A few days later the doorbell rang and Tom returned from answering it with a narrow parcel a yard long addressed to me. He asked what was in it but I said it was something I was collecting for my sister who was away. When he had left for work I took it to my study and examined the two canes, swishing them through the air. The reformatory cane gave a deeper note than the other, but both gave me a feeling of power. I locked them away in my cupboard and awaited a suitable moment.

It came after a visit to my family. These visits always put Tom in a bad mood because he thinks that my father, a gentleman of the old school, secretly despises him.

Tom is a fast, skillful but impatient driver and I often had to tell him to slow down. On the return home he was more aggressive than usual and by the time I got home my legs were like jelly. Tom went to garage the car, and I had a stiff whisky. I decided that now was the time and went to my study cupboard, took out the lighter cane and placed it on my desk. My study also has a long table for laying out materials for lessons. I piled these unceremoniously on the floor. When I heard Tom come into the house I called him to come up in a peremptory tone of voice.

He entered the room with a frown on his face and saw me sitting at my desk. A second later he saw the cane in front of me. I remembered the school caning I had witnessed and looked coldly at him, saying "Some time ago you asked me whether I meant it when I said that I should cane you. Well, I did. Your behavior today was disgusting and I have had more than enough of it. You submit to a caning here and now or we can call this marriage off." I was amazed at my own coolness as I watched emotions warring in his face. I felt entirely unemotional. Either he submitted, or I would gather my things together and go back to my parents.

Tom's mouth had gone dry. He licked his lips, started to say something and fell silent. Taking his silence as submission, I told him to go to the end of the table, take down his trousers and bend over. He hesitated for a moment then took two paces to the table. His hands went to his belt, then he looked back at me as I was rising, cane in hand. I gestured to the table and he lowered his trousers and bent over. I knew then that I had won, but he had left his underpants on and his knees were bent so his bottom did not present a very good target.

Curtly, I told him to stand again, take his shorts down and bend over further, stretching as though trying to grasp the far end. Now he was well positioned. I said, "Twelve strokes" in a tone which brooked no argument and stepped up beside him. I folded his shirt back and pushed it out of the way and measured my position. I wasn't sure how hard to strike. School canings were delivered over clothing so they were not much of a guide. I decided to feel my way carefully. The first stroke got little reaction from him, nor the second. The third and fourth drew little gasps but the fifth was rewarded with a distinct "Ow" and an involuntary movement. I gave another five at about the same strength, then another a good deal harder. He tried to rise but when I snapped, "Stay down", he subsided back into position for the hard final stroke.

I told him to get up and dressed and went back to my desk. When he had reclothed himself I gestured him to stand in front of my desk. I noticed his face was pink and he was moist about the eyes and winced when he moved. "From now on you will behave yourself or receive a caning. You are not out of the wood by a long way. You were within a hair's breadth of divorce today and if you do not learn your lesson it may still come to that. Now go to bed."

I decided that I would sleep in the spare room and leave him to his thoughts. Before I went to sleep I smiled at the thought of how I had brought him to submission.

During the night he woke me, sliding into bed. Within a few minutes he was making love to me with a hard urgency. I touched his buttocks, feeling the hot lines where my cane had tamed him.

After completion, I said: "That was very good, much better than recently. You have just given me another reason to use the cane."

Dear Aunt Kay,

This is a written assignment punishment. My wife assigned me the task of writing to you about our last discipline session. You may ask why I allow my wife to discipline me. I love my wife deeply, and I too believe that men need regular discipline sessions.

Regards, John Smith

I got up early last Friday morning, 15 minute earlier than my wife, Susan, so that I could have the breakfast ready when she got up. It was one of my wife's rules to have breakfast ready and waiting. When Susan walked into the kitchen, I noticed that she was smartly dressed in a white blouse, a dark blue skirt that ended above her knee, dark blue nylons, and dark blue heels. I said, "Honey you look great", and I reflected on our first three years of marriage. She was a slim, trim 25, and just 3 years older than I was. She was in a bossy mood this morning. The most beautiful woman in my life, and she was my boss. She didn't say anything for awhile. She just looked at the expression on my face, trying to read what I was going to do. She told me, "Pour me a cup of coffee, my dear." She sipped on her coffee and continued to look at me. "Come straight home from work. You're going to get it good." All day at work, I had the jitters. My friends noticed that I was unusually quiet. When they asked, "What's wrong", I replied that I hadn't slept well the night before. I got out of work 10 minutes early to be sure that I would get home before my wife. I knew what would happen if I was late. Fortunately, I arrived home ahead of my wife.

When she arrived home, she was in a bossy mood. She ordered, "Go take a shower and put on your red, white and blue boxer shorts, the ones I gave you for your birthday. Then report to the living room. I have a surprise for you." I knew better than to argue with her when she was in one of those moods. I hurriedly showered and put on my shorts. As I walked back into the living room, I overheard my wife talking to one of her girlfriend on the phone. "Gloria, I spank on the bare and I spank hard," she said. Then she paused and said; "I'll see you in 5 minutes." After she hung up the phone, she walked into the living room, looked at me and said, "You remember Gloria. It just so happens that I promised to show her how I keep you in line." My knees turned to water and my stomach turned inside out as I thought of the prospect of having Gloria watch me put through my paces. Gloria had just graduated from college, so she was slightly younger than I was. Just then I heard a car pulling into the driveway. The doorbell rang and Gloria was ushered into the living room. My wife introduced us. "You already know each other." Gloria looked in my direction to acknowledge my presence. I could see that my brief attire embarrassed Gloria.

"Please honey!" I pleaded, "Not in front of her."

Susan reminded me, "Gloria's presence will add to your contrition." Susan retrieved a straight back chair and a paddle, and sat down in the middle of the living room. "I have a new paddle from Aunt Kay," she said as she brandished the dreadful instrument. It was an oversized oak S-paddle with holes drilled through it. I felt overwhelmed by the presence of the two women. Here I was standing in my undershorts in front of two fully dressed women. She explained to Gloria, "I'll warm him up first." She got up from the chair, walked behind me and ordered, "All right John, bend over and grab your ankles." "Please, honey," I begged.

"Bend all the way over John," she ordered again, walked around in front of me and ordered, "and keep those knees straight." She stood looming over me and demanded, "Do you remember what you called Aunt Kay or Gloria the other day?" "No."

She reminded me, "You called Aunt Kay an old S.O.B and you called Gloria a young S.O.B. She paused and said, "Now you're going to pay for that", and she walked around behind me, raised the paddle and brought it down with a snap of her wrists. Whack! Whack! Whack! She started out slowly delivering a dozen well-placed spanks. She followed through with a volley of a dozen hard, quick strokes. When she took a pause for only a few moments, my hands flew to my behind. Before I could massage it very much, she ordered, "Bottoms up", and she meted out one stroke after another. Whack! Whack! Whack! My bottom turned hotter and hotter, and sorer and sorer. "Ouch! Ouch!" My yelps became louder and louder. She gave me another dozen strokes. I was moaning loudly by the time that she called a break. She sat down on the chair and taunted me. "How do you like being spanked like a 10 year old boy in front of us girls?" "I loath it," I replied.

Then she gave the humiliating order, "Shorts down." I knew that I had to obey. "All the way down to your ankles," she ordered. I obediently pushed my shorts down off my hips and let them drop. I felt so exposed, but I knew it was good for me. She got up from her chair, walked behind me and ordered, "Bottoms up." She aimed. Whack! Whack! Whack! She struck right across the center of my cheeks. She was really hitting with force now, and I was moaning loudly. She took a 5-minute break and ordered, "stand at attention hands at your side", to cool off, my red bottom.. During the last part of the break, she explained to Gloria, "Now that his bottom is warmed up, it's time to get heavy", and, "heavy discipline is what a man needs." After the break was over, she looked at me and ordered, "Assume the position. Bend over." My bottom was already seething hot, and she reminded me, "We've only just begun." She swung with greater force. Whish the air rushed through the holes in the paddle. Splat the paddle thrashed into my bottom. I yelped. She raised her arm and delivered another Splat, and I let out another yelp. She delivered twelve well-centered (well-deserved) strokes squarely across each cheek. "Your bottom is turning red," she informed me and she took a break. By this time I was sobbing deeply. "It's time to take him over my knee for some ADT," she told Gloria. "Then she explained to Gloria, "ADT means advanced discipline technique." She finally sat down in the chair, raised her dress up to her waist showing her long beautiful legs and motioned to me, "Get over my lap." I knew I was in for it now and it was good for me. I walked over to her side, and did not resist as she effortlessly pulled me over her feminine knees. She told Gloria, "Now I spank in fours, first the top of each cheek and then each side in alternating strokes." Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! "That's all one spank," she explained. "Now I give one dozen like that, 48 in all." The paddling went on and on, and my voice turned hoarse from yelling. I started to swing my legs high and wide in an awkward attempt to disperse the pain. Susan told me how much she liked to watch my fanny dance as my red-hot bottom squirmed, and my cheeks clenched and unclenched. "It's time to open him up for some ADT," Susan explained to Gloria without stopping the paddling. She told me to open my legs and she pulled me higher over her knee. "I get him nice and high like this and open up that tender crease at the base of his bottom. I give him 20 or 30 like this and that gets rid of his cockiness." I yelped as each blow fell next to my sensitive parts. I noticed that each blow was not falling as hard now. "I see some blisters now," Susan said as she caressed my bottom with her hands. She called a long 15-minute break, and she said, "I got a new cane from Aunt Kay." She returned with the dreaded cane and flexed it in front of me. When the break was over, my loving wife grasped me by the arm and ordered me to stand at attention behind the chair. She explained, "I want to finish this lesson with what I call a submission test. She grabbed me, pushed me down over the back of the chair, and said, "For this you bend over the back of the chair and grab the seat with your hands." As she spoke she nudged my legs apart, "and you keep your legs spread two feet apart and keep your bottom arched up nicely for your wife." Susan adjusted my position. "Arch your bottom up for your wife." "That spanking you just received was for being rude and nasty. The next lesson is to test your submissiveness. This is what you must do. You must hold your position, stand still on your tiptoes, and arch your bottom. You must ask for each stroke. If you get out of position, the stroke doesn't count, and you must get back into position, and ask for the next stroke." "You're going to get 12 in all. She walked behind me. "Arch your bottom and ask for the first one."

I obediently asked, "Please ma'am give me the first one."

"This is for calling Aunt Kay and Gloria SOBs," she obliged. The cane whirred through the air and made a Splat where it cut into my fleshy cheeks. "Ow," I shouted. I heard my wife telling me to ask for the next one. I obeyed again. "Please ma'am give me another one." She tapped the cane on my bottom and delivered another resounding blow. Splat! "That one doesn't count. You got out of position. Get back into position," Susan said loudly. I readjusted my position under her supervision. "Arch your bottom." I obeyed and asked for another --- and another --- and another. She worked her way down to the top of my thighs. After six strokes, I was shaking uncontrollably. Then she concentrated on the top of my thighs. I howled as the cane bit into my flesh. I lost track of the number of times I got out of position and of all the extra strokes I took. When, it was over I went into our bedroom and surveyed the damage. It was a mess, but like my wife told Gloria, "Bottoms can take a lot". After I cooled down, I put my shorts back on, and Susan asked Gloria to come visit for my next spanking

Presumably ever since the beginning of time, there have been difficulties in establishing sexual arousal Synchronicity between Female and her Male partners. There is a new technique under study at an all Female University in the UK, which according to all the preliminary statistical data, shows great promise at virtually eliminating this condition. I must emphasize that this study is only preliminary, but the analyzed statistical data looks impressive.

This study was entirely funded by the university, without the availability of outside funds. I cannot give you the name of the university until the study is complete, and reviewed.

The problem of early male sexual arousal was first addressed. It was believed that if the blood circulation to the male genitalia could be reduced after a state of premature sexual arousal, the arousal symptoms could be reversed, however this should be done in such a fashion that the normal arousal state could be re-established quickly enough for the convenience of the demands of the female.

A simple and inexpensive solution was proposed. Two male volunteers were procured who had consistence experienced with this problem. The males were fitted with tight fitting undergarments (brief's) for the purpose of obtaining a good fit. The under-garments were to be of a heavy cotton material.

Then these undergarments were wetted down, folded neatly, placed in a plastic bag and frozen. The state of arousal was determine by visual observation and by verbal communications. When a premature arousal became evident the male was fitted with one of these frozen garments and fitted over the garment was a tight fitting thermally insulated and waterproof piece of clothing. This was found to be very successful at subduing the state of arousal and doing it very quickly. The garment was removed 60 second after the arousal condition subsided. The expediency of the subdual was most important, since there was concerns for cold damage and frost bite. But in most cases the subdual rate was rapid and well within the guide lines.

There was concern at this point as to, how, to quickly re-established thermal stability in the two male volunteers. Now damp towels, heat lamps, and warm blankets were evaluated for this purpose. Temperature probes were used to study the effectiveness of the various procedures. However the temperature probes would only measure temperatures at the surface of the skin. A new method had to be used to assure that the warming took place deep into the inner layers of the flesh as well.

One of the female staff members had an idea. This idea involved applying hard slaps using a wood paddle on the males buttocks. As to as restoring the flesh temperatures quickly, it was a great success. Not only that, but use of the probes was no longer required, because there was an excellent correlation between the temperature and the color (amount of redness) of the males buttocks. Even though this temperature was normalized when a moderate red tint became apparent, the staff members would continue to use the paddle until the male buttocks were bright red. They reasoned, that it was better to apply some extra warming just to make sure that the temperature was properly re-established. This however did cause some discomfort to the volunteers.

AN UNANTICIPATED SIDE EFFECT: Now the subduing of the arousal state in the male was completely effective, however, the state of arousal was immediately restored, after or during the application of the wooden paddle. This would seem like a failure in the intent for the experiment, but there was this unexpected turn of events. It seems, for some unknown reason, that during the application of the paddles by the female staff members that all 7 of the female staff members also commented that they also gained a state of arousal.

This procedure was repeated many times on the 2 male volunteers over the course of the next six weeks, and the results were always repeatable.

Now this only involved two males and 7 female staff members. So it was not really statically valid. A larger number of participants had to be employed. It was feared that volunteers would be difficult to obtain, because the males would have to endure significant pain during the warming up portion of the experiment. However the original male participants never complained even though there appeared to be under tremendous pain at times.

An advertisement was put in the local newspaper describing the intent of the experiment and the procedure to be used. along with a warning that it would be quite painful from the males perspective. The responses was expected to be minimal, however to everyone's surprise it was overwhelming. The staff members chose no less than 45 married couples and 14 single males were used to continue and monitors the 7 female staff members along with those reactions of the 14 single males.

The results and the numbers are being evaluated, so until this is completed I am not allowed to tell you to much, except to say that it most certainly appears that a great success has been achieved. And that an affordable and safe breakthrough in Female and Male arousal Synchronicity has finally been achieved. Another subjective effect was noticed after tabulating the questionnaire of

the participants. Almost a universal opinion was expressed by all of the participants that they were healthier and happier than before the experiment began.

Even thought these procedures seem to be safe and effective we urge you NOT to use these procedures in the home environment until the long term health effects and other safety issues can be established.

I came home with a lot of butterflies in my stomach, I had always been a bit moody and my wife had decided I needed an attitude adjustment. Dora knows when I get a little down and when I don't talk much that it's time to pay a visit to the bedroom for her own unique remedy for my lack of consideration .

We had come to an agreement early in our marriage that she would have the power to correct me with good old fashioned discipline if she felt it was needed.She did indeed spank as a prelude to sex but this was different, she was going to administer a real punishment and I knew I deserved it. ' Hi darling, ' she said as I walked in the door,' did you have a good day? ' I replied that it wasn' t bad and gave a her a big kiss and a long hug.' Honey I want you to go straight up to our bedroom and get things ready, you know what I mean'. ' Yes Maam', I replied as I started up the stairs. I got to the bedroom and prepared myself for the ordeal ahead. I stripped down and left only my underwear on and placed a couple of pillows on the bed where I would soon be lying receiving my chastisement which I knew would bring me to tears.

I sat on the edge of the bed, slightly aroused but quite scared at the thought of what was to come. I knew I wouldn't be aroused for long once the spanking started. I heard Dora coming up the stairs, her heels clicking on the wooden stairs. She entered the room dressed in a white blouse, black skirt, stockings and heels. What a beautiful sight she was. Oh how much I loved this woman. However, in her hand were two implements which would soon deliver my overdue bare bottom whipping.

She had her large oval hairbrush and her two tailed light tan leather tawse. It was an authentic tawse given as a gift from an old Scottish schoolmistress whom we had met while on holiday. It was a little worn and had obviously seen some action in its time. 'You know why you're being punished Tom?' she asked with a slightly stern look on her face. ' Yes Maam,' I replied, ' I have been moody and inconsiderate of your feelings and I know you don't deserve that' ' That's right, Tom, I love you too much to let you just sulk the days away. I know this spanking will clear the air and help you get focused again. It will hurt because its a punishment, remember, but we'll both be better for the experience'. She sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her skirt slightly . ' Okay, assume the position!' she said with assurance.

I did not delay, I knew better and quickly placed myself over her ample lap awaiting her firm but loving hand . She scolded me about my behavior towards her and told me that she loved me and I needed this discipline. She didn't waste any time, pulling my underwear down to my ankles. The handspanking was always first and oh how proficient she could be with her hand. She began to spank me, slowly at first and then speeding up briskly. She did spank hard and covered each bum cheek with stinging smacks which had me squirming on her lap. 'Stop wiggling,' she said as she slapped my upper thighs. My bottom was burning as she continued spanking for a good five minutes, she must have given me over one hundred stinging slaps and I was near to tears already. Without saying a word she rubbed my burning bum as she picked up the hairbrush. I hated that brush, it stung like hell and my bum cheeks clenched in anticipation of what was to come. She brought the hairbrush down hard on my right cheek and I yelped, again and again the she spanked me with a ferocity I hadn't experienced before. After about twenty five good hard strokes I broke down and began to sob, but it didn't deter her from doing what she felt she must. She laid on another twenty five hard strokes which left me bawling like a baby. She stopped and ordered me to get up and go stand in the corner. ' I need a rest for a bit', she said. ' Don't dare rub that bottom or I'll double the dozen strokes with the strap you still have coming'. I wanted to rub my bottom so badly, it was just throbbing from the over the knee episode but was fearful of getting a double dose with that wicked leather strap so I managed to refrain from the urge to rub .

She relaxed while leafing through a magazine and after about ten minutes she ordered me on to the bed . I lay on the bed with my bottom raised by the pillows as she picked up the tawse and stood at the side preparing to administer the final phase of my punishment.' Your bottom is very red, Tom, it almost makes me want to stop right here. But I have to give you the strapping you need and it will leave a dozen good welts which you'll remember for days every time you sit down' . I started to weep softly and the next thing I remember was the strap coming down hard on my bottom causing me to cry out as the tails bit in to my flank. She gave me six on one side and walked round to the other side of the bed. I was bawling now and my bottom felt almost numb. She laid on the remaining six with gusto and threw the strap on my back and left the room giving me a chance to compose myself.

I laid there crying for about five minutes and got up I looked in the mirror at my bottom which was black and blue from the tawsing I had just received. I composed myself and went downstairs into the arms of my lovely wife. ' It's over now darling.' she whispered as we kissed passionately. ' It's time for nurturing now, let's go back to the bedroom my love,' she said as I felt the overwhelming urge to give her pleasure, this night was going to have a happy ending.

Morning came too soon as the alarm went off at the usual time. Instead of getting up, I rolled over and pushed the snooze button. Just as my head again hit the pillow, I felt Kat's soft lips on my neck. "Come on sleepyhead," she whispered, "time to get up." "Oh honey," I groaned, "I really need some extra sleep. Please, just this once, let me sleep in a little." She said not another word, but rolled out of bed. I took it as 'silence means consent' and with a heavy sigh, rolled over and closed my eyes.

For a while it was like old home week, sleep for seven minutes till the alarm sounded, hit the snooze and sleep another seven. I played this snooze alarm game till the last possible moment finally getting up at five fifty-eight.

I went to the bathroom and got my shaving mug and headed for the kitchen. Kat was sitting on the couch with the newspaper in front of her and only grunted at my greeting. I went into the kitchen, which obviously had not been the action central. Oh well I thought as I put the kettle on, I could hardly expect a good breakfast with time so short. I turned the fire to the lowest point so as not to burn the pot up while I was in the shower, and went back to the bathroom.

After my shower, I returned to the kitchen to fill my shaving cup. She was still sitting on the couch reading the paper. This time I said nothing.

Finished in the bathroom, I glanced in the living room as I went to my office to dress. She was still reading the paper, but was dressed now in tight-fitting jeans. I also noticed she had on perfume, as I could smell it as I passed her bathroom. It was a light, and very feminine scent call Lace, and it was one of my favorites.

After I finished dressing I went to the kitchen to make my lunch and fill my water bottle. Then back to the office to get my stuff together. After putting on a sweater jacket I grabbed my briefcase, and turned out the light.

As I rounded the corner from the hall to the living room, the scene before me took a minute to reconcile. Kat was sitting on one of the dinning room chairs, purposefully placed in the middle of the room. She was wearing Jeans and boots with a man's white dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up. Her hair was combed and she was wearing makeup. She was seated with one leg elevated, the heel of her boot hooked over the bottom rung. She leaned forward, her right elbow on her knee with her fist under her chin. Her left forearm was lying across her leg,. In between her legs, from her hand, dangled her hairbrush.

"I trust the extra sleep will be worth it," she said. It seemed as though she looked right through me. "Now," she said, I want you to think very carefully before you answer this next question. Are you ready?" "Yes ma'am," I said, "but do you realize what time it is? Can't we do this when I come home? I going to be late to work." "Oh yes," she replied, "I know exactly what time it is and as for your being late, yes you will be, and that's just too damn bad. Now here is the question, think back to Monday morning. What did I say when you started to play the snooze game? The same game you mistakenly thought I allowed you play this morning? Think carefully now, you know what happens to liars." My mind flashed to the memory of the taste of Lavender and answered.. "You said that there would be no more snoozing, that I was to get up when you said or when the alarm went off, which ever came first." "Very good," she said sarcastically, "Now did you or did you not break the rules when you stayed in bed past when your alarm went off?" "Well, I guess so, but" "No buts. Did you or did you not disobey me? Yes or no." "Yes," I admitted. "Well now just what do you think I'm going to do about that?" "Spank me?" I ventured, knowing full well her intention. "Right again," she said, "You not only missed a great breakfast with the best of company, but you are going to be late to the office and as an added bonus, you are going to go to work with a very red bottom. Now unload your burden and get over here. "I walked slowly to the couch and placed my stuff there. Then turned slowly and walked over to stand in front of her.

There was a time when I had to take my pants down before she spanked me. Now, she insisted on doing it herself. As she began to tug at my belt she said, "you are going to be very sorry you disobeyed me, and your fanny is going to be even sorrier." She finished unfastening my pants and jerked them down around my ankles. "You have gone too far this time mister, and I am telling you that I will not tolerate your wanton disobedience any longer." She slid my underwear down and picked up the brush. "Get over my knee right now," she said tapping the brush impatiently on her thigh. I laid myself across her lap and attempted to steel myself for the worst. "Bad boy she said in a shamming voice," and the first spank fell with a resounding crack I was certain could be heard for blocks.

The spanking was lengthy and painful although she stayed pretty much on the fleshy part of my buns, she snapped the brush with gusto all the while scolding. "You are a very naughty boy," she said as she continued to her attack on my bottom. "You should be ashamed of yourself, big man like you over his wife's lap having his bottom blistered like an unruly ten year old." The brush continued to fall. "From now on you are going to do as I say when I say it. Every time you fail to follow the rules, I will spank your bottom crimson and I will spank you as many times as in necessary until you learn that you can not choose which rules to follow and which to break." The spanking continued and so did the scolding. I will spank you every day, three times a day if that's what it is going to take for you to come to the realization who is boss around here. The spanking stopped. I was sobbing miserably.

She laid the back of the hairbrush on my hot cross buns and said, "I hope this will teach you a lesson." This was followed by three fast spanks. "Are you going to get up when you are suppose to from now on?" Again the brush fell and I answered through my tears, "yes ma'am, I will, I promise. Please no more. "Oh, I don't think you are sincere enough," she said. Again the brush bit me in several different places and I wailed, "I do mean it, I will never over-sleep again." "Bet your bippy you won't," she said and again the brush rained down on me. "You won't ever oversleep again because if you do, I will not wait to spank you. You will be taking a hot shower with a steaming bottom," and the spanking continued.

By this time I was, as I had many times in the past, starting to doubt my motives for being in this humiliating position. The thought of being over her lap was enough to make me drop my own pants and fling myself at her waiting knees, But during the actual spanking, especially a punishment spanking like this one, I really wanted to be somewhere else. It was funny in a way and I guess not that unusual. Although at that moment I wanted to be able to turn back the clock, or at the very least for her to stop, I knew that I could not escape and that she would stop when she was ready and not before. I also knew that after it was over, I would feel better as I would be drained of emotion and completely at peace with the world and myself. It was this thought made the spanking worth the pain and the delicious feeling afterward was something that could only be experienced. There was no way I could explain the afterglow of a sound spanking that made me feel like the most loved person in the universe. With each stinging spank, I knew that the wonderful feeling would remain even longer when it was over.

Kat continued to spank my bottom with her hairbrush. She also continued to scold me. At this point I was way over the hump. The spanking itself was keeping the home fires burning and my crying had reached the saturation point. I surrendered unconditionally and lay a limp spanked mess over her lovely lap, when once again she stopped.

"Now, she questioned, "has my bad boy learned who makes the rules?" SPANK "Yes ma'am, you do," I cried. "Are you going to do as I say, when I say?" SPANK "Yes ma'am always." SPANK "You are lying," she said, in addition to a blistered bottom, how would you like to go to work with the fresh taste of soap in your mouth?" "No ma'am, please don't do that." "Then answer the question without exaggeration." The brush came down three times and I cried, "I will always try to be good and to follow your rules," "That's better,' she said, "and when you do break the rules, and you will, what can you expect from me?" "You will punish me as you see fit," I said. "Right." SPANK "Now I am going to finish this spanking. When I get through you are to go stand in the corner until you can stop crying. Then wash your face, and come to me for inspection before you go to work. Understand?" "YYYes ma'am." "Good, now one last thing. You are going to beg me to spank you in a manner that you know I will anyway." If you do a good job and ask me nice, I might go easier on you. If not..........

This was a new wrinkle. She had never ever wanted me to beg to be spanked. Now she not only wanted it, she was demanding it. "Well?" she questioned. "Ma'am, I have been a very naughty boy and deserve your loving discipline. I beg you to spank my bare bottom as long and as hard as you think necessary. The spanking should be such that I will not soon forget what will happen if I go against your wishes or otherwise act naughty. I ask that you spank me now, as I need it and want to be purged of all my guilt."

With that she said, "I accept your request and will now fulfill it. You are a very naughty boy at times and it because I love you that I punish you when you misbehave. I will now finish your spanking in the manner in which you requested." With that she laid at least fifty more swats on my sit down in a volley the made me cry and howl so loud and so long that by the time is was over, I was breathless. She put a period on the session with one last punishing spank across both buns and pushed me to the floor. "Get up and go to the corner." I said nothing and all but ran to the corner still crying and rubbing my burning bottom.

I spent a long time sobbing loudly. She seemingly paid no attention at all, but went about her business. I stood with my nose in the corner. My bottom seething with fire. I took heart in the fact that once the fire cooled some, the warmth of her love would be with me for days, even if there were no more spanking during that time, which now seemed very unlikely.

When I finally got hold of myself, I pulled up my pants and went to the bathroom. I Looked in the mirror at my backside. It was as red as she had ever made it. The signs would not fade quickly. I washed my face, brushed my hair, added some cologne and looked at myself. The only sign that I had been crying was the red eyes, which I was sure, would disappear before I reached the office.

I came back into the living room. She was in the kitchen straightening up. I got my stuff together and went to the kitchen. She was at the sink and I came up behind her and kissed the back of her neck. "MMM," she muttered. I turned her around and looked her in the eye. Then I got down on my knees and said, "Thank you ma'am for loving me enough to spank me when I'm wrong. Your loving discipline gives me direction I never had before. I love you." She pulled me up. Planted one on me, and said, "You are a bad boy sometimes, but I am very glad that you are my bad boy. Now get to work, I will call and tell them you overslept.

On the way to the office I sang songs like No Greater Love. I was very up though quite uncomfortable. I whizzed through the day and hurried back to her. That night we made love. I was wonderful sex with lots of laughing - except when she played with my bottom - and lots of consensual touch, slap and tickle. There were climaxes of course and when it was over, it was late. She said, "tomorrow will be a good test of the lesson I hope you learned this morning. It will be very hard for you to get up when the alarm goes off, but get up you will. If you even entertain the idea of sleeping in I will spank your bottom twenty-five times for each minute you procrastinate." "Yea ma'am, I understand." "Good night bad boy," she teased. She kissed me and rolled over so I could cuddle in behind her, where I slept most of the night.

When the alarm sounded the next morning, , I was out of bed and into the shower. I think she was somewhat disappointed that she was not going to get to take me to task again. She needn't worry, there will be other times and other reasons. If I didn't see to it with my actions, she would think of something, of that I was sure.

by Sonny

"I'm going to whip you so hard you won't sit down for a week," said my wife after finding out I'd forgotten to enter yet another ATM withdrawal. "How many times do I have to tell you. I don't care if you make them, just write them in the checkbook." I didn't have an answer because she was right. I always manage to forget to enter them and it finally got to her.

"Since tomorrow is your day off don't expect to be doing anything other than what I tell you," she informed me. Do you understand?" "Yes ma'am," I replied, knowing I was in trouble and deserved it. When she wants to, she can give me a spanking that leaves my ass sore for days, but I'd never made her this mad before. I wasn't looking forward to tomorrow, I was unaware she planned to start tonight.

During dinner she was her usual sweet self, but as I was finishing she said, "when you're done eating I want you to take a shower. Then present your bare butt to me in the living room." I didn't answer right away and she glared at me, waiting for a response. "Well," she demanded. "Yes ma'am," I meekly replied and went to do as she ordered.

As I showered, I reflected on how I came to be in this predicament. After we were married we started telling each other our fantasies, and my favorite has always been a good, old fashioned, bare bottom spanking by a beautiful woman. She was hesitant at first, but once she started, she proved to be an expert. She even takes me out to the woods and uses a switch to blister my bare bottom.

Aside from the obvious benefits in bed, she discovered that soundly spanking me markedly improved my behavior. The more often she applied the strap or paddle, the better it worked. We were to the point where she was spanking me at least once a week, but lately she had been distracted by work and more than a month had passed since my last one. Obviously, I had lapsed back to my old forgetful self. Now I would have to pay for it.

The sudden blast of cold water brought me out of my reverie and reminded me that we have a small water heater. But even the cold water couldn't wilt my erection. The thought of what my wife was going to do to me had me hard as a rock. I was actually looking forward to the whipping I would soon be getting.

After drying off, I dressed in my uniform and walked into the living room where she was waiting to begin my punishment. She was sitting on the couch holding her small paddle and she smiled when she saw the condition I was in. "I don't think you're going to find this whipping all that exciting," she said as I stood before her. "This one won't be fun, but if you're still hard when I'm finished, I just might make use of it." Patting her lap she said, "you know where to go, don't make me tell you."

Slowly, I crawled across her lap and was no sooner in position then the paddle landed, hard. And it kept landing hard. This was no ordinary warm up. She meant business and my bottom was on fire after only a few swats. If this was the warm up, I wasn't looking forward to what was going to happen on the bench. She has a wide variety of paddles, straps, canes and switches from which to choose for the real punishment, and she knows how to use them all.

I tried to keep count of the swats she was giving me, but she had that small paddle landing so fast, I lost track around 80. She had to be well on her way to two hundred before she paused to check the heat of my inflamed bottom. "Hmm, not quite ready yet," she commented and resumed paddling my stinging buns.

After another furious burst she slowed the pace and made sure every inch of my bottom was thoroughly reddened. From the tops of my cheeks to halfway down my thighs, she made sure I was beet red and ready for the bench. She had never paddled me this long or this hard before and I began begging her to stop.

"I'll stop when I'm good and ready," she told me, "and for the next few days you're going to think about why you got this whipping every time you sit down." She gave me another thirty or so swats before she laid her paddle on the table and said, "that should be warm enough. Now I want you to get up and go in the bedroom. I'll be in in a couple of minutes, and you know how I want you." "Yes ma'am," I replied standing up. "Tell me," she demanded, wanting to hear it from me.

I hesitated, eyes downcast, hoping I wouldn't have to answer, but she was in no mood to be patient with me. "Tell me," she demanded again, "if you know what's good for you." "On the bench," I mumbled and turned to go. "Yes, and I want you to think about why you're being punished," she said as I left the room.

I really was being punished. This was no play acting on her part, it was the real thing. The worst part was she was right. I should remember to write down the withdrawals, but for some reason I usually forget. Now my ass was paying for it, and if the warm up was any indication, it was going to be a long, painful evening. I didn't know how right I was.

As I lay there, draped over the bench, my flaming ass high in the air for her to punish further, I realized how lucky I was to find the woman of my dreams. Though she was really punishing me this time, I've always liked being spanked and now was no different. I was looking forward with a mixture of fear and anticipation to what she had in store for me.

My heart started pounding as I heard her walking down the hallway. My time was up. The execution of the sentence was at hand and it was going to hurt. She walked into the room and commented on what a nice target I presented, and then proceeded to tie my hands to the bench. "I know you're going to wiggle tonight so I'm going to make sure you stay put," she said as she pulled the strap tight around my legs. She was right. I couldn't get up if I wanted to and now I was completely at her mercy. She didn't give me any.

"I'm going to paddle and strap your bottom for a while before I cane you," she informed me as she pulled her large paddle from the drawer. "And since you neglected to enter a fifty dollar withdrawal, you're going to get fifty swats with each one.

The paddle whooshed through the air and laid a streak of fire across my tender cheeks. Nine more followed in quick succession and then a pause to let them sink in. "I guess I'm just going to have to start spanking you on a regular basis again," she said as she paused. "You were doing so well when I kept your butt red all the time. I guess mom was right, boys never do grow up."

I heard her raise the paddle again as she resumed my punishment. This time it was forty strokes, slow and measured. Each one bringing an involuntary cry of pain from me as the paddle burned across my naked bottom. "I see I'm getting your attention," she sarcastically commented as she laid a particularly hard stroke at the bottom of my cheeks.

"OW, please not so hard," I cried, hoping she would show a little mercy, but the next stroke was just as hard and she was far from finished. "You're in no position to tell me how hard I should spank you," she said. "You earned this and you're going to get all of it. Just hope I don't loose count and have to start over." The paddle continued to leave its mark and I did my best not to disrupt her count.

After she gave me the last stroke, she replaced her paddle in the drawer and told me I had a few minutes to reflect before I received the strap. She walked out of the room and I lay there clenching my poor cheeks trying to relieve some of the sting.

This was the hardest I'd ever been spanked and I knew I wouldn't be sitting comfortably for a few days. As the sting subsided to a warm glow I began to relax. My breathing returned to normal and my thoughts turned to the punishment I still had coming. The strap I'd had many times before. It burned, but it was infinitely more tolerable than the cane. Unless, of course, she used the tawse. Which is a wickedly painful instrument all by its self. Split down the middle like it is, it feels like two straps landing at once. Fifty with it would be more like a hundred.

Lost in my reverie, I didn't hear her enter the room and was brought abruptly back to reality by the first stroke of the strap. The crack of the leather on my naked bottom rang like a gunshot in my ears and I was to startled to cry out. "That was just to make sure you weren't sleeping," she told me, "now that I have your undivided attention we will begin."

I heard her step back and raise that wicked strap. The pain was indescribable as she worked her strap from the tops of my cheeks down to the middle of my thighs in five strokes. I clenched my bottom in anticipation of the next stroke, but it didn't land. "Unclench those cheeks young man," Doris commanded, "I want to see them bounce when I strap you." With a moan, I relaxed my bottom, but she still didn't resume. Instead she patted my blazing bottom and said,"I know you want to get this over with as fast as possible, but I'm enjoying myself, besides if I give it to you too fast you'll get numb and I want you to feel every swat."

She let another minute pass that seemed like hours to me before delivering another set of five identical to the first. She was right, I felt each searing stroke and my bottom felt swollen to twice its normal size. She paused again to let me relax and absorb her handiwork. She gave me three more sets and then laid her strap across my back, patting my inflamed bottom she said, "don't go any where. I'm going to get a drink, then I'll pick up where I left off. You better hope I remember."

I prayed she'd remember. I was halfway through my strapping and didn't want to start over. No matter how much I like her to spank me I never wanted another punishment like this. I might not be sitting down for a week after this one.

A few moments later she breezed into the room, sat her glass on the table and asked, "let's see, now where were we." She picked up the strap off of my back and said, "ah yes, strapping my naughty boys bottom. I believe you still have twenty five strokes coming, isn't that correct"? "Yes ma'am," I knew better than to lie and say it was less. "why are you being punished," she asked. "Because I forgot the ATM," I quickly replied, not wanting to anger her further. "Very good, your memory's improving already. By the time I'm finished with you, you'll remember those ATMs won't you"? "I'll remember them now," I pleaded hoping she'd end my punishment here and now. "Oh no, you're not getting off that easy," she told me. "You still have twenty five coming with the strap and you have the cane to look forward to after that."

I heard her step up and begin her swing. I involuntarily clenched my cheeks, anticipating the blow at the top as before, but it landed across my thighs instead. "Unclench those cheeks, or I'll start over at one", she commanded. I willed my bottom to relax just as the next stroke landed right above the first. She worked her way up this time and number five landed at the top of my poor cheeks. "OWWwwwww," I moaned, but I only had twenty more to go.

She paused as before and enjoyed a sip of her drink. I began to relax as the fire spread throughout my blistered bottom and faded to a hot glow. CRACK! I hadn't heard her start again and was caught unprepared for the wicked stroke across the center of my bottom. "Nice bounce", my wife commented, "that's the way I like it." CRACK! She wasn't following any pattern now. The strokes were landing at random and for the rest of my strapping she would watch for my bottom to relax and lay her leather across the very center. It was definitely a strapping to remember.

When she finished, she told me I had fifteen minutes to think about what was yet to come and walked out of the room. I relaxed and tried to calm my breathing until her words struck home. The Cane. Fifty with that and her prophecy would come true. I wouldn't be sitting for a week. Oh, why did I forget that ATM.

The Morning After

My wife began spanking me two years ago. She had asked me twice to wash the dishes. I kept repeating: "In a minute dear," but kept loafing in bed reading sports magazines. Finally, my wife silently entered the bedroom in her soft flowery nightgown and got into bed. As we both nodded off, we began to cuddle. She is so beautiful. I love her hips and her bottom and her auburn eyes. I was almost asleep when I thought she murmured, "There will be a new regime tomorrow morning. We're going to discuss your not helping enough and then I'm going to discipline you. This woke me up. I wondered if she'd put me over her lovely, maternal lap and spank me. If she did I would be easily overpowered because I'm smaller than her. "But..." I turned to her, but she was fast asleep.

The next morning, I awoke with the room suffused in light. The windows were open and the curtains were blowing. My wife was sitting cross-legged on the bed watching me intently. She looked so lovely wearing her long string of Indian beads. "I thought I'd let you sleep in so you'd be rested and mindful of why I'm going to spank you. You have not been pitching in with the chores, Carl. What's the problem?"

I looked at her dumbfounded. I thought it had just been a dream.

"I thought so. You were too wrapped up in being self-centered to even know how displeased I am. I'm going to give you a good spanking with my hand and then this Victorian brush. You need a mother's love and discipline and I intend to provide it to you once a week, naughty or not." She very gently took my arm. I hesitated. She said: "You know I love you." I nodded. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. "And you know you're powerless against me physically. I can pin you in two minutes." It was true. My friends used to kid me about how diminutive I looked standing beside her at barbecues. My reverie was interrupted when my wife shimmied her beautiful body back against the headboards and patted her lap. I laid across it submissively. "Let's see," she began, and carefully positioned my bottom, now poised for her discipline, to optimize aim and velocity. "You have such a spankable round bottom! I used to love patting your behind when we were standing around at picnics with our friends." She pulled back her hair and clamped it with a clip behind her. She smelled of jasmine.

The hand spanking began very lightly, like feathery caresses, not at all unpleasant and gradually increased until I started to feel slightly warm--then in minutes, very warm. Oddly, I felt loved more than anytime in my life. She softly reproached me for my behavior as the spanks got louder and louder. She announced, after 10 minutes, that my bottom was now a very bright pink. She rubbed and scratched it. The blissful feeling was over and I felt the nerve endings on my bottom jump, retract and pucker. I struggled but she held me firmly in place.

She picked up her brush and spanked at a menacing pace. I writhed like mad. The brush made a 'Tick-Tick-Tick' sound. She said, "I don't like doing this." Tick-Tick-Tick. The spanks were expertly delivered across my entire bottom and my thighs. To my great embarrassment, bereaved snuffles from me became undignified cries. "I'm sorry!"

"Good boy. I want to hear you cry. I want you to become innocent as a baby and dependent under my discipline and care. Then I want to spank you some more. I'm going to spank my authority into your sweet, round bottom. Now, hold very still, sweetie. Can you show mommy how good you can be?"

"Yes," I wept.

She spanked very hard and fast across my cheeks and thighs for another minute. I was howling. Suddenly, it was over. She cupped her hand on my bottom, then gave it a deep massage. She put her glasses on and reached for some lotion on an end table and kneaded it in. I cooed when I heard the squirt and felt the cold lotion cool the fire. Finally, she let me up, and stood me up in front of her. Our eyes met. They were wet with tears. "You will do your chores from now on," I wept and nodded. She held me and I found myself cloying tenderly at her face.. "Now" she said moments later. You are confined to your bed for the rest of the day. If you get up, you will get a hand spanking. Tonight, we shall discuss the new regime together. Tomorrow you will clean out the garage and boat. Remember, I love you and discipline is an expression of that love." She tucked me in and kissed me good morning, or rather, goodnight. Then she sashayed out of the room with her glasses dangling from her hand and removed the clamp to let her red hair fall down. I lay in the light with my tears and wept from time to time about things of little consequence. She left the hairbrush behind on the bed with me.

Disciplinary Wives Council

Debby and I were new to the DWC lifestyle and had never been to any kind of event. We were excited about attending Aunt Kay's Weekend Husband Immersion Program but I was also quite nervous about it because I knew that Debby and Aunt Kay had been in communication already. I asked what was going on but Debby would just smile and say "you'll see".

We were the second couple to arrive at the house and started chatting with the other couples and Aunt Kay and her husband. I couldn't believe how much like our friends at home they were, just nice normal people. After all the couples had arrived and formal introductions were made, Aunt Kay carefully explained the rules of the event and what was expected from the men in particular.

We were to be on best behavior, meaning acting like gentlemen, at all times with all the ladies. The women were all empowered to discipline any of the men; right on the spot, if they felt it was appropriate. My anxiety level went up even more after all of that was explained. Soon couples were disappearing upstairs and coming down a few minutes later with the men looking quite subdued. I was talking to another guy when
Debby grabbed my arm and said "let's go" in a tone I knew well. She took me to a guest room upstairs and said "strip". I know better than to argue but I was getting quite excited, I knew she was going to spank me in a stranger's  room like and it was a strange feeling.

As soon as I was positioned across Debbie's knee,  Aunt Kay walked into the room. I barely had time to register my embarrassment and try to make sure my privates were not exposed. Aunt Kay told me that part of what she did was she was personally make sure that the men "felt" the intention of the weekend.. Aunt Kay told me she was going to set the tone and ordered me across her lap. I looked at Debby and she had a
smile on her face. I must have taken to long to obey and Aunt Kay slapped me hard across the thighs. I jumped across Aunt Kay's lap as quick as I could with my knees shaking. Aunt Kay told Debby that I obviously needed some work, I looked at Debby and she was smiling even bigger. Aunt Kay proceeded to give me a no warm up, no-nonsense, spanking. Just like that! When she was done she had me stand and thank
Debby for bringing me. Aunt Kay walked out of the room and Debby told me to get dressed.

When we got back downstairs the other guys were busy arranging the furniture, a banquet table faced the sofa and all the chairs. I noticed Aunt Kay was handing out paddles to all the women. When the furniture was arranged Aunt Kay ordered the men to stand in front of the table facing the women who were seated. I was really nervous about what was coming after Aunt Kay's spanking upstairs. Aunt Kay said that to get
over inhibitions we were going to start the weekend off with a spanking "musical chairs" style. She told us guys to drop our pants. The sight of seven naked butts waiting punishment brought a round of applause from the women. I was bent over the table staring straight ahead unwilling to meet any of the guys eyes when Aunt Kay said "ok ladies ten of your best just like we planned".

Instantly Debby was beside me laying in with all her might. We were all getting spanked simultaneously! I was still reeling when the next women came to me and Debby went on to the next guy. By the time the third lady was taking her turn I had lost all self control and was whimpering and moaning, all the other guys were in the same boat and that just seemed to encourage the ladies efforts. When all the ladies had their turn we
got a round of applause and hugs from our wives. I just couldn't believe this was only the beginning.

After a great dinner Aunt Kay announced it was time for the "show and tell" part of the get together. The women had drawn straws as for the order they would demonstrate. We were the fifth couple, I had never witnessed another couple conducting a spanking before and was  riveted by them. Guys were bent over chairs, made to touch their toes and lie on a bench. When it was our turn my legs were like rubber. I looked at
Debby and could tell what was coming. I was going to get caned, laying on my back, legs in the air holding my ankles. This is my most embarrassing position and Debby knows it, but she says it gives her the best angle for caning. Debby took to her role and gave me the longest caning so far. I couldn't even hold my head up when she was done and just went back to my spot on the wall.  When every couple had their turn
Aunt Kay congratulated the ladies on their technique and specifically mentioned Debby for her use of position to help increase the emotional impact of the punishment.

The next morning we all had breakfast together and chatted. I couldn't imagine facing these people after yesterday, but today it seemed so natural. One of the wives came over to Debby and I and said she was really impressed with our display last night and wondered if she could borrow me. I looked at Debby but she just smiled and said of course. Susan took me by the hand and took me to one of the spare bedrooms. I
was dreading being spanked by her, I just didn't know if I could take it.

When I got to the room I saw that her husband was there as well. Susan said she enjoyed our demonstration the best last night and wanted to try the technique on her husband as well, but having seen me hold the position she wanted to try it out on me as well to gauge her husband's reactions. She had us both assume the position, Keith on a bench and me on the bed. At least I couldn't see Keith directly but I heard the
punishment he was getting when she went back and forth between us. My eyes were wet with tears when Susan finished but I think she took it easier on me than she did Keith. She handed me back to Debby and said how well behaved I was and how much she enjoyed it, I just hung my head.

After lunch Aunt Kay sent all the men into the backyard and told us to wait. We were all nervous about what was happening, especially since one by one the wives would come in take their husband in but the guys would not come back out. Eventually Debby came out to get me; she grabbed me by the arm and walked me through the kitchen. By now I was willing to do what ever she wanted without argument as she led me through the dining room and pulled me through the door to the living room. When we stepped
into the living room all the wives were facing me sitting behind the banquet table like a panel of judges. This was absolutely the most humbling experience I have ever had. I couldn't even hold my head up. Aunt Kay explained that at this get together the women were going to be able to vent all their frustrations about their husbands and get the
other wives feedback. All the women would make notes and determine a discipline they saw fit for each husband. That meant I was going to be punished six more times that night!

Debby proceeded to tell the women all my worst habits and attitudes. The women took notes and asked questions. Debby confided the most intimate details about me and all I could do was stand there. When she was done sent me to the front of the house to wait for all the men to be done. The wives were very excited and talkative through dinner but all the men were very quiet in anticipation.

After dessert Aunt Kay announced the "finale" of the weekend. Each husband was told to set a piece of furniture up until the whole room was rearranged for discipline. Aunt Kay had the guys stand against the wall in our underwear to wait our turn. Aunt Kay read each punishment card like a game show host.

First was Ryan, 15 strokes with the strap, bent over administered by Debby. I watched as Ryan grabbed the strap and handed it to Debby. He went to the middle of the room and Debby pulled his boxers down. She laid into him hard, he moaned but kept position. While he was getting punished Aunt Kay read us all some of his offences, very personal
details were read out loud while he was getting his punishment from my wife. One by one all the cards were read. I got caned, strapped, paddled and spanked in every position imaginable. Half way through I was emotionally numb and willing to take any order given with out question.

When every card had been read, Aunt Kay lead the ladies in a round of applause to us for being man enough to do the right thing by our wives. She then had us thank each wife individually for her effort in our improvement. My butt may have taken a beating but my mind was clear, a lot of bad feelings Debby had were addressed and resolved this weekend. I know I'm a better man for the discipline.

THERE FOR A FRIEND

Debby and I are getting more comfortable in the DWC lifestyle in our house, but except for a small group of like minded friends with whom we get together, no one else really "knows" about my discipline. About two months ago Debby started talking about a new woman in her office named Sandra. She's just been through a rough divorce and is apparently having a hard time. Debby and Sandra have been having lunch frequently lately. Last week over dinner Debby was talking about Sandra and said "I've told her about us". I asked her what she meant (not thinking) and she informed me that she told Sandra I get spanked for discipline and any time Debby sees fit. I was a little surprised but didn't think much of it until the next Saturday when Debby told me that she had invited Sandra over for lunch.

I opened the door for Sandra; She's a very attractive woman, about forty. You could tell that she was a little nervous meeting me and seemed in general to be a little bit "mousy." Debby had asked me to grill some salmon for lunch but after it was done I stayed outside doing some yard work so the girls could talk. I wasn't trying to listen but I could hear at one point that Sandra was crying softly, a little later there was some mischievous laughter from both ladies.

I was just about to mow the lawn when Debby called me and asked me to come into the living room. When I stepped in I saw that Debby and Sandra were sitting on the couch, there was a dining room chair facing the couch and Debby had her favorite hair brush in her hand. Debby told me to have a seat on the chair. She told me that she invited Sandra over to see how we handle problems in our house. She talked about men needing discipline to get control over themselves and all the benefits that a good spanking achieves. I got the feeling that it wasn't so much a lecture for me, but a lesson for Sandra. I looked over to Sandra and although she still looked quite shy there was also a look of eagerness in her eyes.

When the lecture was over Debby said "OK, lets show Sandra what I've been talking about." She told me to get up and stand by the chair. She told me to "get ready" which means STRIP! FAST! I took my clothes off without meeting Sandra's eyes. Debby walked over to the chair and pulled me over her lap. She shifted me into position and said to Sandra "see this could have solved all your marriage problems." Debby started slow, lecturing all the time about manners, bad habits and generally being a good husband. The paddle came down harder and faster until I was moaning and tears were in my eyes. Debby would interject her lecture to me by saying things to Sandra like, "See, I told you it works" and, "Don't forget, you're the judge of what it takes". When Debby finally let up she gave me a couple of seconds to catch my breath still over her lap and said to Sandra "see how easy it is?" I was sent to the corner, still naked while Debby and Sandra talked a little about what had happened. I heard Sandra say that it was certainly interesting and gave her something to think about. After Sandra left, Debby rubbed a cooling lotion on my butt (which she never does, after all its supposed to hurt), and gave me a big hug and kiss for being such a good guy, helping her to help her friend.

Debby didn't mention Sandra again that next week but on Saturday morning she told me that she invited Sandra over in the evening. My heart sank, I hadn't been punished since the previous week, but I had a feeling there was going to be another spanking for me tonight. Sandra arrived just after supper, when I answered the door I was surprised by how different she looked. Sandra had gotten a hair cut and colored and looked me in the eyes when I said hello. She seemed much more confident than she had just a week before. Debby took Sandra into the living room and asked me to fix them a couple of drinks. When I came into the living room I was relieved that there was no chair moved into the room like last week. But my relief disappeared when I saw the hair brush in Sandra's hand. Debby said "look what Sandra bought, isn't it great." I gulped, it was a real old fashioned heavy wood hairbrush, and Sandra was holding it like she meant business. Debby told me that she and Sandra had talked about last week every day over lunch and Sandra was ready to give discipline "a try." I looked at Sandra and she was leaning back in the couch with a smile in the corners of her mouth. Debby told me to "get ready." I quickly stripped, this is the most humiliating part of punishment for me, especially in front of another women. Debby pulled me over to where they were sitting side by side on the couch and pulled me over both their laps. My chest was just off Debby's lap, but my butt was right in position over Sandra's lap. Debby pinned my right arm behind me with her hand and held my waist with her other which is something she never does. She said "OK honey, this is all Sandra's, so behave!" I held my breath and heard Debby tell Sandra to go whenever she's ready. Suddenly I felt the brush on my backside, but it didn't hurt at all, I don't even think the brush landed square. Debby said "there you go, take all the time you want" After a second I felt the brush again, this time it hurt, landing square on my cheek. Debby said "don't worry about the color, it takes a lot to make a point, just go ahead, as much a you need." I barely had time to take a deep breath when the blows started. Sandra was hitting hard, landing all over my butt. Debby kept encouraging her on with pointers like to "get everywhere" and "don't hold back." In no time I was squirming and moaning but Debby held me tight. The spanking seemed to take forever but Sandra started to slow down. I thought it was over when Debby said "don't worry about the bruising, he'll be fine, just let it all out!" I realized I was being punished for all the things that Sandra's ex had done to her. She seemed to catch fire again. I was crying out loud and begging for it to stop when I heard another sound. Sandra was making the same noises that tennis players make when their rackets connect to the ball every time her brush connected with my butt. This was by far the hardest I had ever been spanked. After what seemed like an eternity she stopped, Debby asked her if she needed more but she said no. Debby applied some lotion to my butt while I was still across their laps and gave me some time to settle down. When I was composed she had me get up and suggested I take a shower and calm down.

When I came out of the shower Sandra was gone and Debby gave me a big hug for being the "Greatest Husband" in the world. She thanked me for being there for her friend. The next Monday I could barely sit at my desk at work when flowers came for me. They were from Sandra, the card just said "thank you" and there was a coupon to a day of golf at a good local club. Even though it hurt like mad, it feels great to know that I'm fulfilling my end of the DWC contract of being there at my wife's discretion.

A couple of weeks later Debby told me that Sandra met a man she likes and that they may be coming over some time. I'm not sure what to expect, but I know that Debby is in charge of the discipline in our house and I will be there no matter what.

Debby and Sandra II

Debby and Sandra were becoming closer and closer all the time. After being there for her first ever spanking I had only been disciplined in her presence one other time. I had told Debby that there was going to be a dinner meeting one night after work and to expect me home by 8:30 - 9 p.m. The meeting had wrapped up early and several of us decided to stay for drinks. Since it was early I thought nothing about staying for a while longer. Unfortunately I lost tract of time, when I glanced at my watch and saw that it was 9:30 I knew I was in big trouble! I should have called but I just raced home arriving just a little before 10:00. I knew Debby would be mad (my lack of punctuality was one thing that was on our DWC contract). I expected her to meet me at the door with an implement in her hand and punish me on the spot. To my surprise she was sitting in the living room watching TV and barely glanced my way when I came in. All she said to me was, "Go to bed, we'll deal with this later." Debby went to the office early the next morning so I didn't see her. About ten in the morning she sent me an email saying in as few words as possible that she and Sandra were going for dinner after work and that Sandra would be coming over after. I was to have the house spotless, set up a dining room chair in the living room for punishment and have all her implements laid out on the coffee table. I was also to be standing in the corner "ready."

I couldn't concentrate all day and rushed home and started cleaning.  I thought if I did as she asked maybe she would soften and take it easy on me. It was 7:00 and the house was done, I went to our closet and got all of Debby's implements. Her brush, paddle, leather strap and the dreaded cane and laid them on the coffee table. I took a chair from the dining room and positioned it in the middle of the living room. Taking a nervous last look around I went upstairs to take off my clothes. Coming downstairs I heard the car in the driveway and had barely enough time to get to the corner before the door opened and Debby and Sandra came in. Coming into the living room Sandra said, "At least Hess done things right this time." Debby replied that she was going to check the house to make sure I had cleaned it well. She told me to make myself useful and make them a couple of drinks. I hurried out of the corner catching Sandra's eye and seeing that she had a big smile on her face. The drinks were ready when Debby came into the room, I handed the ladies their drinks and was sent back into the corner while they sat on the couch. They were talking about me, how disrespectful it had been to be late and the punishment that they thought was appropriate. Debby ordered me to have a seat in the dining room chair facing them. I received a lecture on timeliness, keeping promises, being trustworthy and generally living up to DWC husband behavior. All the while Debby was lecturing Sandra would interject points and the two would discuss my behavior. After a good 15 minutes of scolding Debby said, "Ok, lets deal with this issue." "Get in position!" I got up and bent over the chair. Debby asked Sandra to hand her the brush and I immediately felt the kick of it as she landed her first blow. I yelped and Debby said, "That was nothing; you might as well get ready to be here a long time." Another strike on the other cheek, she meant business. After about 20 smacks she handed the brush to Sandra saying, "Why donut you tell him what you think?" Sandra swung just as hard, by now my knees where shaking, and I was sweating and crying. I heard Debby say it was time to move on and I felt the lash of the strap low on my thighs. It felt like I had been stung by a thousand bees! She let up after a few, stepping back to let Sandra swing the brush. After several hard swats with the brush Debby asked Sandra if she would like to try the strap. They were being so light and convivial talking about the best application technique. Debby said, "Here give it a try." My butt caught fire as Sandra landed the strap right where she had been concentrating with the brush. She said, "Oh yeah, I like this" and proceeded to lash me hard. Debby encouraged her efforts and punctuated each lash with a swat from the brush. I was reeling with pain and embarrassment. I could hardly keep my knees locked when I heard Debby say, "There, how about ten more each!" I felt a wave of relief knowing it was coming to an end even though the pain of each alternate lash from the ladies was almost unbearable. When all twenty had been given Debby and Sandra laughed brightly and commented on my well used bottom. I just stayed in position crying, waiting to be told to get to the corner or take a shower but not expecting to hear, "Well enough warm-up, lets get to the punishment!" I couldn't even formulate words to beg forgiveness as Debby took me and led me to the back of the couch. She pushed me over so my legs were straight and I was on tip toes with my head way down by the seat. She stepped back, slapped my butt hard with her hand and said, "There, perfect target for the cane." I panicked but was too frozen with fear to move. I heard the cane whistle in the air as Debby displayed it for Sandra saying, "Now this is how we make a big point." I heard her say, "Watch this." I can describe the pain as an explosion, I felt it and saw it at the same time. The cane set fire to my already beaten backside. After a few strokes Debby handed it to Sandra to try. She missed, landing the lash just above my knees, it stung terribly but not like striking my butt. Debby told her to try again, this time she landed straight across my but like a surgeon. I lost track of how many lashes I got with the cane, but it was more than all the other times combined. Just when I knew I couldn't take any more Debby told me to get up and come here. She took me across her lap on the couch and proceeded to hand spank me while reiterating the cause of my punishment. She demanded a sincere apology slapping my butt until she thought I sounded contrite enough. She then had me apologize to Sandra for having to take the trouble to punish me and sent me upstairs to shower.

The best part of taking the discipline is that there are no lingering hard feelings, I felt like Debby and I had cleared the air and could move on with clear consciences. Sandra came over a lot but there was no punishment session, just friendship, it was like Sandra was becoming family. One day Debby mentioned that she had invited Sandra and her new boyfriend Don over for lunch the next Saturday. I fired up the BBB when they arrived and got drinks all around. Donis about my age, also into golf, we had a lot to talk about. After lunch we were sitting on the patio when Debby excused herself. So far everything going great, good conversation, new friend, a perfect Saturday afternoon. Then Debby stepped out on the patio holding her newest implement, a rubber paddle! She told me that I had left the toilet seat up again (something I work hard to remember) and, "You know what that means." I was about to protest but Debby took me by the hand and led me into the house. I heard Sandra say, "Oh, oh, now Hess gonna get it," and laugh. I expected Debby to lead me to our bedroom but instead she walked me into the spare room she uses for sewing. The window was open with Sandra and Don sitting less than three feet from it. Loud and clear Debby told me to "drop them." I quickly pulled down my pants and shorts and leaned across her sewing table. The rubber paddle stings, but doesn't hurt as much as wood, it does however make the loudest smacking noise of anything. Debby landed a hard one on my butt, the sound reverberated through the room and out the window, I heard Sandra giggle. Another fell on the other cheek. Debby was lecturing me in a loud voice about the toilet seat while landing blows all over my butt. Even though each hit doesn't hurt too much, in quantity it builds up fast. My eyes were wet with tears and I was moaning loudly when Debby ended with a fast and furious volley of strikes. She told me to pull my pants up and get back to our guests. She didn't even let me wash my face. When we stepped on the patio Sandra said, "There all better?" Debby laughed and said, "You bet." I noticed Don wouldn't look at me, and was squirming in his seat. Sandra turned to him and said, "There isn't that better than letting a problem get out of hand?" In a soft voice he answered, " Yeah, I guess so." The rest of the afternoon went easy and Don seemed to overcome his embarrassment or what ever it was. We said good-bye and that wed do it again soon. The next morning the phone rang and Debby picked up. All I heard her say was, "Really, it worked then." It was obviously Sandra and obviously good news. When she hung up Debby was smiling from ear to ear and told me that Don went across Sandra's lap last night for a good, first time spanking. Apparently the ladies had the whole BBB planned to get this result.

It had been about a month, Debby had kept me posted on Donis progress as a DWC man. He was getting regular "maintenance" spankings and had received on discipline session for forgetting to call when he said he would. Debby invited them over for dinner one Saturday night. Sandra looked amazing, vibrant and confident, Don looked like he was losing weight and was dressed great. They were obviously very happy together, lots of touching and affection with Don very attentive to Sandra. During dinner, small talk progressed from general topics to discipline. Sandra and Debby discussed there various rules, what kind of discipline various infractions get and even very personal details about Don and I. Both Don and I were clearly uncomfortable and just sat quietly. After dinner was put away Sandra asked Don to bring a couple of dining room chairs into the living room. He looked confused but complied, when he came into the living room Debby came in from the other side carrying all her implements. She put them on the table saying to Sandra that she should definitely start with these. They were both sitting on the couch while Don and I were just standing there when Debby said, "OK Hon, get ready." I looked around nervously, but she told me to hurry up! I quickly stripped and just stood there looking down when Sandra said to Don, "Come on, what are you waiting for?" Debby ordered me into position while Don stripped. Sandra grabbed him and put him over the chair a couple of feet from me. We both just looked straight ahead embarrassed. Sandra said, "Oh yeah I like this" and lashed Don with the strap. He yelped in surprise but remained in position. I felt the hair brush on my butt and heard Don get another lash simultaneously. Debby gave Sandra some pointers on the strap and then handed her the brush. The strap landed across my butt and I heard the smack of the brush landing beside me. I was trying to keep control in front of Don, but I started to moan and groan. Don was letting go and soon we were both oblivious to each other and just focusing on the discipline. I heard Sandra say it was time to try the cane. Don yelled in surprise and pain as the first lash landed. Debby complimented Sandra on her technique. Sandra landed a few more and then handed the cane to Debby. Soon they were alternating between us. It seemed like they could go on forever, the ladies were joking, laughing and obviously enjoying themselves. Don was in tears and moaning as much as I was. My knees were giving out and I was sobbing loudly just wanting it to stop when I heard Sandra say, "That seems enough for now." Don and I were allowed to get dressed and settle down. After a couple of drinks Sandra and Don left. I got a sisterly peck on the cheek from Sandra but couldn't meet Donis eyes as we shook hands. Both ladies laughed and said we should do this more often.

It is amazing the camaraderie that develops between DWC folks. At Debby's insistence I invited Don out for a game of golf. We were awkward with each other at first but then soon conversation flowed easily. Even though we didn't speak of the other day there was an obvious bond between us. Don and I have become good friends and we see them both frequently. Both Don and I know that when the four of us get together we will definitely be getting disciplined but wouldn't have it another way. True friends like Sandra and Don are hard to find and well worth the "pain" and effort of keeping.

COMING TO UNDERSTAND MY ROLE

I had been on my best behavior for a couple of weeks because I knew that Debbie was having a really hard time at work. It wasn't bad enough that she lost out of the promotion she was entitled to, but Ed from another division with a bad reputation as a sneak and manipulator got it. Debbie’s best friend at work Elaine was calling every night to complain about “the new” guy. Every day Debbie came home more upset and on edge. Having signed the DWC contract I knew I had committed myself to except any discipline that Debbie sees fit at any time. Having Debbie so tense and nervous at home really started to effect me, even though I was doing my best to be on top of everything at home, I could tell that “office trouble” was causing Debbie anxiety and stress. Every night, while the calls between Elaine and Debbie became longer and longer, I tried to be cheerful and accommodating.
   
One night after Debbie came home late and immediately got on the phone with Elaine I
realized that I had been selfish and unsympathetic. I had expected any discipline Debbie’s discipline as her effort to improve my attitude, but I forgot that my role is also to support her emotionally as well. On this day, when she got off the phone with Elaine I stood beside her with her rubber paddle in my hand. I know that she likes that paddle because of the noise that it makes and how effective it is on me. Debbie looked up at me and saw the paddle and said, “Honey, what’s this?” Without saying anything I handed her the paddle and started to take my clothes off.  She didn't say a thing as I laid myself across her lap, but her hand gently caressed my bottom and she whispered “I love you”. Immediately the paddle landed square on my cheek, individual smacks of this paddle are somewhat light, but noisy and Debbie loves using it hard and fast. I braced myself for the spanking and was really trying to be on my best behavior since this session was all for her. I braced for the worst but Debbie stopped after 30-40 smacks and caressed my butt. She thanked me and pulled up for a kiss and I noticed her eyes were wet with tears. We made love that night for the first time in a while; I slept wonderfully knowing that I had given something of myself for my wife’s emotional support.
   
I hadn't thought out the consequence of my actions, but the next day Debbie called from the office to say she'd be late, because she’s stopping by the gourmet store on the way home. I thought we were going to have a romantic dinner. When Debbie came home, she called me to the door to see what she bought. Debbie pulled a large wooden spoon out of the bag, I just stood there and she said, “honey, I really appreciate what you did for me last night, I know it must take a lot for you to have done it”. She handed me the spoon and said, “I've heard about using one of these, and decided that now was the perfect time to try it out”. Debbie took the spoon from me and told me to “get ready”, my signal to strip fast for a spanking. When I stood naked, I took a dining room chair and started to move to the middle of the room but Debbie stopped me. She said, “I've been thinking about this all day, come with me”. Debbie took me by the hand and led me to the kitchen. She left me standing in the kitchen while she went to the living room and grabbed a cushion of the chair. Debbie pointed to the table bench and pointed to the middle of the room, I quickly grabbed the bench and placed it where she indicated. Debbie placed the chair cushion and placed it in the middle of the bench. She said, “ok, honey lie down on the bench, bottom up”. While I positioned myself on the bench, with the cushion pushing my butt in the air and my hands on the floor Debbie took one of the kitchen chairs and sat just behind me. Debbie said, “ you are such a sweetheart and don't think I don't appreciate it”. With that the spoon landed square and hard on my butt. I arched my back in surprise, every implement feels different and this spoon was not what I expected. It wasn't like a paddle; it was like a hand but smaller. With my butt high up and her sitting just behind me, Debbie was able to swing the long handled spoon with precision. She got every inch of my cheeks and upper thighs. Occasionally she would concentrate on one spot until I started to squirm in panic until she moved on. There was no way of knowing how often the spoon landed on my butt. The tempo varied from fast and furious to slow and deliberate, I looked behind me several times to see Debbie totally concentrating on spanking me with a stern look of concentration on her face. After what seemed an eternity Debbie said “ten more”. This is how she usually ends a session, I will receive ten of the hardest, but I know that will be the end of it. The last ten really did push me over the edge, that simple wooden spoon whistled as it cut through the air. When she was done, Debbie rubbed cooling lotion on my butt and told me to get up. She have me a long, hard hug and thanked me for being such a wonderful husband. I felt wonderful; I wasn't made to stand in the corner as usual and allowed to shower immediately. I was surprised that though my butt was sore and stinging, there were now bruises.
   
The next day Debbie called me last thing at work and told me to “be ready” when she comes home. I wasn't expecting this; I thought I had done my duty for her for the last two days. When Debbie came home I was naked in the corner, and not happy about another spanking session. Debbie called me to her and said that “I appreciate what you're doing for me, I know it hurts but I need a release from the stress at work and baby... you're it!” With that Debbie pulled me to the sofa and told me to lie down on my back. She told me to lift my legs up high. Debbie hooked my legs under her left arm, which pulled my butt off the sofa and left her right hand free. She then proceeded to flail my butt with the spoon like a machine gun going off. A couple of times reflexes would cause me to bend my legs making her struggle to keep me in position. When I did that she grabbed the heavy wooden paddle on the coffee table and gave me several hard swats to “learn how to stay and behave”. It took a lot of will power but I was able to hold still and not resist as she set fire to my ass with that spoon.

I received nightly spankings for more than a week. I just came home, stripped, placed the spoon on the coffee table and waited for Debbie to come home. The change in her was amazing, Elaine had gone on vacation so there was no one to talk to, but Debbie’s mood was fantastic. She was light, funny telling jokes and couldn't keep her hands off me. I knew I was doing my part in our relationship by giving Debbie the means to vent her frustration. Late Sunday night the phone rang, it was Elaine calling the minute she got home from vacation to find out the latest from the office. I could only hear Debbie’s part of the conversation-“oh, nothing has changed at all..... really, I sound different...well yeah I know what it is.... my husband let’s me vent all my anger....
mmm… well, I spank his bottom until I feel better.... absolutely serious....yeah I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow over lunch. I still have a hard time with other people “knowing” what goes on, but I trust my wife, and realize that she is empowered to decide how our house is run. But now how am I going to face Elaine at the next office party?

The Silent Treatment

It all started with a bank deposit.  It really should not have escalated into a battle of wills. But sometimes in marriage a small disagreement takes on a life of its own.  It always ends the same in Jane and Steve’s house: Steve ends up apologizing and sitting on a tender backside.  You’d think he would learn not to show disrespect.

So, it all started with a bank deposit. That was Tuesday. Steve didn’t like being reprimanded, so he reacted with the “silent treatment,” lasting into Wednesday.  Big mistake, Steve.  Let’s listen in: 

Tuesday:

“Steve, there were six deposit slips and checks, but I only see five receipts here.”

“What?”

“I sent you with six and you came back with five.  Didn’t you look at the receipts the teller gave you?”

“Jeez, I did exactly what you told me to.  Why can’t you ever be satisfied?  Maybe you should say ‘Thanks, Steve, for doing my banking.’  Or do it yourself.”

“Uh, I think that it is OUR banking, and if I am not mistaken, my royalty checks are being deposited into the joint account, and are being shared with you.  Is it too much trouble for you to put them in the bank account competently?”

“You always are looking to blame me, aren’t you?  If the teller made a mistake, it wasn’t my fault. Every little thing that goes wrong in this world is not my fault.”

“I sent you with six and you came back with five.  Don’t you think you could just check to see if all the deposit slips were there before you left the bank?  Can’t I expect that much help from you?”

“I told you that I don’t like being blamed for someone else’s mistake!  You always say things are my fault.  Maybe there were only five in the first place; what about that?  You think you are so perfect?”

“Please don’t speak to me like that and don’t use that tone of voice with me.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong and you always treat me like you think I am an idiot! And if I took the blame for this mistake I WOULD be an idiot.  But I’m not! And I am tired of being told I am!!”

“Well, young man, that rant is out of line.  You will be canceling your golf game on Saturday in order to do some chores around here so you can demonstrate that you are more of a team player.”

“I am not your problem!  Go talk to the bank teller. It is not fair for me to be grounded for this!”

“I am talking to you at the moment, and you better hear me loud and clear:  you are now grounded for Saturday AND Sunday, young man.  You’d better cut your losses and start showing me some respect, or it will be two weekends.”

“That is ridiculous.  I am not at fault; the bank teller is.  I dare you to go down to the bank and ground her!!  Or, better yet, see the manager!  Tell them they are incompetent!”

“That’s two weekends, Buster.  Say another word and your pants are coming down right here and now.  I ought to wear you out.”

[Silence.]

Wednesday, after work:

Jane: “I tried to get you by phone, texting and email, several times today. I guess you must have been very busy.

[Silence]

“I was trying to find out if you want to go out tonight or if I should make dinner?”

“Whatever.”

“What would you like?”

“I don’t care.”

“OK, I will make some fish tacos.  You like that.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Like I said, I tried to call and email you at work today, and you didn’t respond. I even sent a text message asking what you wanted for dinner. Why won’t you have a normal conversation with me?”

“I have answered your questions.”

“You have not been speaking to me since last night.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“I don’t like the silent treatment.  It is rude.”

“How can I be rude when I am being silent?”

“OK, hold on.  Let’s get our facts straight, and then, let’s make sure we understand each other’s feelings and emotions about what’s going on here.  You came home from the bank and I asked about the receipts. Would you agree with that?” 

“I guess so.”

“And you blamed it on the bank teller. Is that correct?

“It was the bank teller’s mistake.  I did what you told me to do, didn’t I?  You didn’t tell me to count the receipts. You don’t trust me with the checking accounts, or anything really, because you treat me like I am stupid.  I did what you said. But I got grounded anyhow.”

“You didn’t get grounded because of the bank receipts.  You got grounded for being disrespectful and oppositional.  And now, Steve, you have been brooding all day today.  You have hardly spoken to me.  I think it is called the “silent treatment.”  Isn’t that so?

“No; I have just been trying carefully not to say anything to anger you.”

“Really??!!  Have I been acting angry with you today?

“No, I guess you were trying to be nice, to make pleasant conversation.  But I didn’t like being grounded for those reasons.”

“So you have resentment toward me and you displayed it by giving me the silent treatment?”

“I wouldn’t say that.  If you phrased it that you hurt my feelings yesterday by treating me like an incompetent, and then you grounded me unfairly, I would agree with that statement.”

“And have you ever hurt my feelings?”

“I guess so, sometimes.”

“I am glad you can be honest about that. Do you try to hurt my feelings on purpose?”

“No.” 

“But you know that the silent treatment is a manifestation of hostility, and that it is hurtful, don’t you?”

“Well, uh   .  .  .  I guess someone could take it that way.”

“OK, since you are admitting trying to hurt my feelings with the silent treatment, don’t you think there is a better, more appropriate answer to that question?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you think it might be better at this point to answer ‘Yes, Ma’am,’?”

[Silence, followed by Long Pause] followed by “Yes, Ma’am. . . I . . . I am sorry, Ma’am.”

“When I get the silent treatment I don’t think you love me. Can you understand that?

“Yes, Ma’am.”

DO you love me?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Do you respect me?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And is it respectful to pout and give me the silent treatment like I am some kind of criminal?

“No, Ma’am.”

“Is it respectful to sit here and keep denying what you are doing, arguing with me, when you know I am right?

“No, Ma’am.”

“And what would have been respectful, after the argument and the grounding?”

“For me to .   .   .   be .  .   .   nice  .   .   . Ma’am.”

“And, in specific, what would being nice mean, in that situation?”

“For me to accept your authority and not show resentment when you ground me . . . Ma’am.”

“So .  .   .    what now?”

“Well, I said I’m sorry. And I am, really. Please believe that.”

“Isn’t there a better way for us to work out our problems?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I was wrong.  I was wrong to have argued with you about the deposit receipts, or about being grounded. And I should not have acted resentful today by being unfriendly to you all day.” 

“And was there more? Didn’t you lie and say you had not been deliberately giving me the silent treatment?”

“And denying my motives  .  .   .  Ma’am.  Yes, Ma’am, I confess that I did that, too.  And I am truly sorry, for all of it.”

“Well, it is certainly true that you could do a lot better with treating me respectfully, and I hope you will, in the future.  But I am talking about now, right this minute, after all this pouting and moping around and acting like a martyr, and acting like I am some kind of tyrant.  Do you understand what I mean?” 

“Yes, Ma’am, I understand you.”

“Steve, I am asking you what you think should happen now, after this silent treatment.”

“Well, I apologized. And I really meant it. Please forgive me.  I won’t do it again.” 

“Well, I appreciate your apology.  But maybe you can suggest something else that will make me feel better about how you have treated me.  Something that might help put us on the path back to loving harmony. What do you think would be a good thing to happen now?”

“Well, it’s up to you, Ma’am.”

“Steve, you know what I am getting at.  Don’t you deserve to be spanked?

“I guess that you would probably feel better. .  .  Ma’am.”

“And wouldn’t you feel better, too?”

“Uh, well . . . uh, maybe,  uh .  .   .     I guess it would clean the slate. Uh, .   .   Well,  .  . Ma’am. Yes Ma’am, we would both feel better then  .   that is, uh, after it’s over.  I guess.”

“So, are you telling me that is what you deserve?  Are you saying that I should spank you for giving me the silent treatment all day, and trying to deny your hurtful intent?  Tell me what you really feel, Steve.  We both know I am not talking about a sexy little play-spanking, Steve.  This is the real thing, punishment to change your behavior.  Are you asking me to blister you with a hard paddling?”

“Please, Jane, I feel bad enough already. I was wrong.  If spanking me is what you insist upon, I know our rules.  I have to accept a spanking if you say so.  I am really sorry and hope you can forgive me.  I am humiliated already.”

“OK, Steve, I won’t make you beg to be spanked.  But you will be getting it, and getting it hard.   And I expect you to submit without any resistance when I restrain your hands, do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“But first, I want to finish this conversation, and to be very open and honest with you.  Yes, we had some unpleasant words last night. And, yes, I understand that you have hurt feelings at the way I treated you. And clearly you didn’t like being grounded.  It is legitimate to have hurt feelings.  I understand how you might.  Believe me, from being married to you I know what it feels like to have hurt feelings. I can remember lots of times when your treatment of me was way over the line, and it made me feel horrible.  So let’s both be honest about that.  

“Steve, I admit partial responsibility for our fight.  It wasn’t fair to hold you accountable if the bank teller messed up.  I was pretty harsh in suggesting you were incompetent, and clearly it did make you feel bad.  I can be honest about all of that.   But that doesn’t justify your behavior.  Your disrespect for me yesterday was plenty of reason for me to ground you, and my decision stands.  For the next two weekends, you will be at home, with lots of chores.  You know the drill: I am going to put you in an apron, with your bottom exposed, and you will clean this entire house, from the basement to the attic and everything in between under strict supervision.  That means I won’t hesitate to write the stars and stripes on your rear with the riding crop.    Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“ Most importantly, from now on, when I exercise my authority in this household, you must accept it, and be nice about it.   You will take criticism and not retaliate or attack me verbally. Your behavior last night and today is why you are being punished today in addition to the grounding and chores for the next two weekends.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“So, right now I am going to fetch the wooden paddle and, again—this will be no surprise to you, I’m quite sure--I’ll also be applying the cane to your backside after the paddling.  You gave me the ‘silent treatment’ and with the cane I intend to administer what I call ‘the hollering and howling treatment.’ I guess I should bring the band-aids, too.  This dialog is over; go stand in the corner with your pants down until I am ready to deal with you.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

He did as she instructed, and put himself in the corner, with his trousers and undershorts in a pool at his feet.  In this situation five or ten years ago, he might have been seething with injustice—the bank teller made a mistake, and then he got grounded, and now here he was about to get paddled and then – horribly, to receive a caning, too. But, now, he put aside his ego, and focused on humility. His ranting was childish and the silent treatment was suicidal.  What had he been thinking?  And now he was going to get what he deserved. He felt foolish, guilty, and ashamed. A few tears came to his eyes and then rolled down his cheeks. 

His reflections were interrupted by a familiar and dreadful sound -- her wobbly rattan cane rattling against her Holy Terror oak paddle.  His backside was unfortunately too well acquainted with them both.  He looked around and saw that she held the implements together in one hand, and the restraints in her other.  He prepared himself to feel the fires of hell on his poor rear, and then having to sit with regret for the next several days.

She affixed his arms and hands behind his back, and bent him over the back of the couch.  Once he was positioned to her satisfaction, she paused to savor the intimacy of this ritual.   In spite of the impending drama, the next thirty seconds seemed almost spiritual.  The room was peacefully quiet, except for her patting the hardwood paddle against her palm and the sound of his breathing as he tried to mentally prepare himself.   

He softly uttered “I promise to be more respectful  .  .  I   .  .   .  I  really love, you . . ., and I am really sorry . . .  Ma’am.” 

She felt calm, no longer angry. She stopped patting her palm and ran her fingers through his hair, lovingly.  But she was resolute, definitely resolute. She thought to herself, “Sometimes spanking his bottom is very arousing, and gives me pure joy; other times, not so much.  I’m sure it’s difficult for him, but my part isn’t easy either.  Spanking with purpose requires strength of character, because I am always tempted to be lenient.  And, really, he is a pitiful specimen of a recipient.  He’s not the least bit brave in the first place; any decent paddling has him blubbering and begging before I’m half-way done. And he can hardly take a caning at all: his bottom is adorable and inviting, but it invariably cuts easily, so he usually gets at most about a half-dozen medium-strength strokes.   The bottom line is that even when he is being punished he is a self-centered brat who has no appreciation of my efforts.”

She came back to the present reality, and moved forward to take care of business. The gentle, rhythmic tapping of the hardwood shifted from her left palm to the crown of his right cheek. First, she increased the tempo, and then the force, rapidly snapping it in the same spot, building something of a sting.  It was not quite a warm-up, but it signaled she was getting a running start.  She took a deep breath and set her teeth.  She inhaled deeply again, twisting her torso to the right as she drew the paddle far back behind her right shoulder.  Leaning into the stroke and using plenty of wrist, she delivered a shockingly hard smack, almost but not quite as hard as she could.  Of course, he howled like it was the end of the world.